


The Renegades

by this_is_how_we_get_ants



Series: The Renegades [1]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Criminals, Alternate Universe - Prison, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Amora Has Issues, Angst, Anxiety, BAMF Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky was never frozen, Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Has Issues, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Loki Has Issues, Love/Hate Relationship, Magic-Users, Mental Health Issues, Mentions of War, Minor Injuries, Multi, OOC Steve Rogers, POV Multiple, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prison, Relationship(s), SHIELD super villain prison, Self-Hatred, Series, Serious Injuries, Slow Build, Steve Has Issues, Super Soldier Serum, Swearing, Team Dynamics, Team of misfit super villains, Tension, To Be Continued, Violence, Wartime Injuries, steve was never frozen, unanswered questions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-04-10 01:02:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 47,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4371212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/this_is_how_we_get_ants/pseuds/this_is_how_we_get_ants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: The Avengers may be Earth's mightiest heroes, but they can't fight all of the planet's battles.<br/>Luckily, SHIELD has an entire underground prison full of super-villains that they can use as they see fit.  The Captain, Winter Soldier, Trickster, and Enchantress are selected to be used against a new threat that has arisen.<br/>Nothing could possibly go wrong sending a group of dangerous criminals out to fight crime!  But, if it does, SHIELD will have the perfect scapegoats to take the fall.<br/>Meet the Renegades...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome to Prison/ The Captain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to SHIELD Maximum Security Penitentiary, brand new home of Prisoner 003.

**LOCATION: SHIELD MAXIMUM SECURITY PENITENTIARY**

_Prisoner 003_

The giant SHIELD agents boxed him in. Meaty hands gripped his arms. Two more agents followed behind, and one, who was wearing a typical suit and tie and looked more like a dentist than an employee of SHIELD, led the way. He wasn’t entirely convinced that they were actual humans in those ridiculous suits that completely covered them; it seemed more likely that they were cyborgs. He fucking hated robots.

It wasn’t like he was gonna be able to escape them anyway. He had learned the hard way that any time he moved his wrists too much, the cuffs sent out an electric zap. His fingers still felt buzzy. They could have warned him; it was probably some kind of robot humor. Watch the stupid human get electrocuted!

From what he could see through his bulky escort, they were in some kind of underground facility. The musty smell seemed to corroborate that theory. He rolled his head back to look above him. More of the same concrete and shitty lighting was all he saw.

This was the weirdest prison he’d ever been in, and he’d seen his fair share of prisons. He had yet to see a single cell, and it felt like they had been moving through the barely lit halls for hours already. Whenever he tried to ask the guards a question the one on his left would jostle his cuffs so that he got zapped. That guy sure wasn’t doing anything to improve his opinions of cyborg-kind. Asshole.

Finally they came to a dead end. Well, technically they came to a huge metal door that looked straight out of a doomsday bunker. The dentist went through some complicated process before a beeping sound akin to a foghorn to the face, signaled the door’s opening. Slowly, the heavy material slid to the side, and he glimpsed the large red ‘A’ spray painted on the surface.

He was led through the door and it shut heavily behind his little posse. Instantly, his eyes protested against the sudden bright light. The dark and dingy dungeon decor was gone. It was replaced by a sterile scheme of white, white, and more white. His eyes darted around curiously trying to get a glimpse of any prisoners. Of course, the agents clustered even tighter around him which made it pretty hard to see anything at all.

As they continued, their steps echoing hollowly in the eerily silent corridor, he finally saw a cell. It was completely glass, unlike anything he’d ever seen. He supposed it wasn’t actually glass, not in a place like this. Behind whatever material made the wall, he could see a man standing still and staring out.

Their eyes met briefly. He turned away from the intense, unblinking green gaze of the first prisoner he’d seen. Unfortunately, if this dude was any indication, this place was gonna be full of weirdos. Even as they walked on, he could feel the man’s unsettling stare all over his flesh.

Further down the hall he became aware of a disembodied hum floating through the air. The sound was otherworldly, and he definitely did not recognize the tune. They finally passed the source of the ethereal music; a woman sat cross-legged in the center of another one of the strange transparent cells. When their little group passed by, he was shocked to see her eyes pop open and a slow smile creep across her face. He blinked, and she was back to her original state, as if she were completely unaware of the passersby.

After passing a few more of the strange clear cells, which appeared unoccupied, they came to another giant door. The lead agent repeated the same complicated procedure, and they stepped through into ‘B’. He was unsure what to expect. It was once again dim in this hallway. Apparently the mental ward white color scheme didn’t extend to all cell blocks. This block looked like the previous halls that they had passed through; basically, the Middle Ages.

After passing through A, B, and C, they came to a door marked D. It seemed that this was the end of the line. The cells in this block featured metal doors with tiny barred windows. The agents stopped in front of one of these doors, and the door was opened to reveal a surprisingly large cell. This cell was unlike any prison cell he’d ever been in before. It felt more like a hospital room or a low-rate hotel.  Seemed like a decent place to die, he supposed.

"This is the end of the line, Captain," the dentist banged his fist against the metal, "Pure adamantium-synthetic; you're not getting out of this one."

He was ushered into the cell, and then he stuck his hands out through the opening so that the cuffs could be removed. Except, they didn’t remove them. Instead, they simply detached the bit that held them together leaving him with two bulky bracelets. So apparently this was his shock collar while he was here. Which would probably be forever, or until the robots murdered him.

. . .

Well apparently he had fucked up. It hadn't taken him very long. This morning an angry little man had come along with his breakfast to inform him he was being moved to isolation. The little man, (he appeared to be human, but jury was still out) had told him his hostile behavior and inflammatory comments were the reason he was being transferred. Whatever. Since when were cyborgs so goddamn sensitive?  You make a few cracks about their mothers...  Did robots even have mothers?

So, anyway, that was how he found himself in Block C. It was a strange cross of the uber-modern transparent cells in Block A and the dark Middle Ages scheme of the other areas. The furnishings in the cell were sparse; apparently he was supposed to sit quietly and think about what he’d done.

He knew he wasn’t the only one in this block. On his second day here, he had heard some poor shmuck getting dragged in yelling about being the greatest hunter in the world. And then the other night he’d been rudely jarred from his sleep by some douchebag being brought in and screaming in a language he’d never heard before. But other than those two incidents, it was radio-silence, true isolation.

He had tried to make contact with the others out of desperation a few times. Screaming hello hadn’t worked. Neither had singing _Battle Hymn of the Republic_ at the top of his lungs. It was getting so bad that he was actually starting to miss the fucking cyborgs. Really, he should still be seeing them because they weren’t actually human so contact with them didn’t technically count. Although, in order for that to work they’d have to admit that they were not in fact people, but robots.  So that was probably off the table.

Not for the first time, he wondered where his buddy had ended up. They had been brought in together, but were quickly separated. While his buddy had gotten to go with the hot redhead, he had had to go with the middle aged guy that looked like a dentist. Just another reason why this place sucked ass.

They weren’t supposed to get caught. After all, they’d been on the run for years without being brought in. The Winter Soldier and The Captain didn't get caught.  But then the fucking Avengers had gotten involved. So, the Avengers could add the capture of two illegally enhanced super soldiers to their count. Now they were just two more nameless faces that would be easily buried in the annals of (already top secret) history while they rotted in this underground fortress.


	2. The Enchantress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet Prisoner 002

**LOCATION: SHIELD MAXIMUM SECURITY PENITENTIARY**

_Prisoner 002_

They all thought she was insane. Which was, of course, exactly what she wanted them to think. It wasn’t hard to convince them. Humans were so gullible and easily manipulated; these supposed trained agents were no exception. Her beauty didn’t hurt, either. Since most of the guards and agents were male, she had easily been able to make use of her feminine wiles. Stupid mortals could prevent her from using her magic, but she had plenty of other resources.

It was quite fun, actually. This place would be utterly miserable if it weren’t for the game she had created. The game had started inadvertently. In an effort to occupy her mind, she had taken to humming some of the lullabies she remembered. From there she had taken to humming and singing at all hours. Sometimes she would just sit in the center of her cell with her eyes closed and do nothing. Other times she would stare unblinkingly from within her cell. Mostly she tried to do whatever would get the biggest rise out of the guards on duty.

It had quickly become apparent that the men tasked with guarding her were enthralled by her voice just as much as they were by her beauty. She was a siren to them, and her song was irresistible. So more often than not, she took advantage of that gift. She loved to watch them pretending not to be affected by her. Even if she could not see their faces, she could read their bodies.

The only thing that would make it better was if that wretched _creature_ that had led her to this pitiful excuse of a life could see her now. How she would love to pull him under her spell and cut him down. Although she supposed he was immune even without his powers. He always had been a step ahead of her. They didn’t call him Trickster for nothing.

She would curse him till the day she died. If only she could have put a real curse on him before they had blocked her powers. It would serve the wretched beast right. He had ruined her, led her astray. She had been a fool to follow him to Midgard. Her heart had never really been set on him anyway. Especially not now that she knew his true heritage. He was nothing more than an abomination. But even though she knew this, his emerald eyes haunted her still.

These were the thoughts that plagued her seemingly endless waking hours. If only she had chosen better. A different path could have led her to her true destiny. She was meant to be a queen, not a prisoner. Damn him and his silver tongue! One day she would get her revenge against him and all of his broken promises.

Her head lolled to the side as she stared up at the ceiling. Everything in here was so bright and sterile. No wonder she resorted to affected insanity to entertain herself. She had no idea how long she had been in this dismal place. There was really no way to keep track of the passing of time without any windows. Her only indication was the daily meals, but she had long ago given up on counting those. It was just the same monotony day after day.

The sole advantage of her completely transparent cell, the material was stronger than diamonds and blocked magic, was that she could see all the new intakes when they passed through her hall. And recently, two new prisoners had caught her attention. There was something special about these two; she could feel it deep within her marrow.

First there had been the man with the wavy brunet hair. He hadn’t looked at her, even though she had tracked his movements like a hawk. As he had passed by, she had seen the metallic glint. His entire left arm appeared to be made from metal. There was something infinitely lonely about this man, a crack deep inside of him. She didn’t have long to contemplate this observation, however. Not long after the first man had passed on to the next block, they once again opened the doors.

This time the head of the prison, Agent Coulson, led the escort. She filed this fact away; Coulson only led the most dangerous and important prisoners in. Unlike the other man, this one had caught her gaze with his clear blue eyes. He had been strong; she could sense it radiating off of him like strong cologne.

Yes, these new additions were very interesting indeed. Even without her powers some of her deepest intuition remained, and she had gotten a strong feeling about them. These feelings were rare and quite faint down here in this purgatory. She had learned to pay close attention to her feelings. It seemed that things were going to change around here. Hopefully sooner rather than later.

She smiled to herself and returned to her humming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I confess that I am not an expert in Amora. So if you're really familiar with her she might seem OOC to you- sorry!


	3. The Winter Soldier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet Prisoner 004.

**LOCATION: SHIELD MAXIMUM SECURITY PENETENTIARY**

_Prisoner 004_

It was all still a bit surreal to him. Everything had happened so quickly. One minute they had been finishing up a job in the city, and the next they were being hunted by the Avengers. He winced when he remembered the giant green monster crushing his arm. Granted, it was a metal arm and he hadn’t actually felt it, but he was still haunted by phantom feelings.

Once they had brought him into this place, they had taken him and repaired his arm. Unfortunately, it was of no more use to him now than it had been crushed. Apparently they had decided that it was just too risky to let him have control over his metal appendage. Instead it lay against his side completely useless; they had somehow deactivated its circuitry.

So now he lay on the cot in his cell staring at the metal wall in front of him. It was a plenty nice cell, but it was still a cell and this was still prison. Prison was technically familiar territory in his adventures alongside Captain. They’d been to their fair share of prisons in the past. But it had never been an issue to bust out. In fact, it had always been kind of a running inside joke between the two of them. _How long do you think it’ll take us to get outta this one?_ He could see the mischievous glint in the Captain’s eyes.

Granted they’d had no choice, but to escape. They certainly couldn’t sit around and wait for someone to figure out who they really were. No one could make them talk, but that didn’t mean that the information couldn’t be discovered. And if it had been… He shuddered at the thought and chased it out of his mind.

He wondered again what had happened to his friend. They had been hooded during the transport here, and once his hood had been removed, he was alone with a group of SHIELD agents. The large silent men had stood like faceless sentries, with their helmets obscuring their faces.

On their way through the cell blocks he had not seen his Captain, either. He had seen a couple of prisoners. There had been the strange man with the unnaturally green eyes and knowing smirk first. Then there had been the woman. Even though he’d pretended not to notice her, it was kind of hard not to. She sat with closed eyes in the center of her bright white cell as if she were an exotic display in a museum. Her blonde hair had almost radiated in the light, lending her a strangely ethereal appearance that was bolstered by the melancholy tune she hummed.

That had been the only cell block where he could actually see any of the prisoners. They had had transparent walls that showed their entire cells clearly. The rest of the prison seemed to be stuck in more of a dark dungeon mindset. A few disconcerting noises had indicated other prisoners as they passed through further corridors.

The whole journey had been unsettling. He squirmed again on his cot trying to get comfortable and maybe dislodge some of the disturbing images that insisted upon flashing through his mind. All he wanted to do was sleep. But perhaps he should have guessed that sleep would not be a reprieve. As he drifted off, nightmares descended on him and once again he was running for his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter... More to come soon. Thanks for reading!


	4. The Trickster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet Prisoner 001

**LOCATION: SHIELD MAXIMUM SECURITY PENETENTIARY**

_Prisoner 001_

Humans were literally worse than pond scum. They were so self-righteous and yet so idiotic! None of them could see beyond their insignificant little lives, let alone their insignificant little realm. Instead they comforted themselves with their deliveries of what they considered justice, their attempts at law and order, and their rules of supposed morality. Little did they know that there were no such things. The world came from chaos, and it was destined to find its way there again.

He had tried to help them. But, of course, none of them wanted to see the truth. Instead they had chosen to bury their heads in the sand and declare him a criminal. The gall of those stupid, pitiful mortals! What did they know? Before he had shown them, they had believed themselves to be living on the only sentient planet. They had thought themselves to be at the top of the proverbial food chain, so to speak. Such blatant ignorance!

Instead of realizing the error of their ways, and accepting his leadership, they had run away screaming in defiance. They had sent their precious harbingers of justice after him. _The Avengers_! What a joke! Didn’t they see that they were putting the same kind of power and trust into those supposed heroes that they could have much more wisely placed in his hands?

Nonetheless, here he stood in his cell curiously watching as the door to his cell block ground open. This was one of the few interesting bits of life in this hole in the ground: seeing the rag-tag, so-called villains that they brought in. He glowered as the first new prisoner was led past him amidst a flock of SHIELD lackeys.

The man briefly looked in his direction, but his gaze quickly flicked away. He looked like any other pitiful mortal aside from the fact that his entire left arm was made of metal. Even so, Loki was unimpressed; the man seemed like a wounded animal. He tracked the processions’ movements until they disappeared through the door at the other end of the cell block.

Before long, however, the door was opening again. This piqued Loki’s interest; they didn’t usually bring in multiple prisoners at once. With a smirk, he noted that Agent Coulson led this parade. He remembered the agent from his own induction into this dreadful place and their _altercation_ on the Helicarrier so long ago.

Finally, Loki was able to spot the blond man in their midst. The blond held his gaze for slightly longer, and something in his eyes sparked Loki’s interest. There was something different about this mortal. Perhaps things were finally going to get interesting around here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last introduction chapter... The action is going to pick up soon!


	5. This is a Great Idea (Not)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the first meeting of the soon-to-be Renegades

**LOCATION: SHIELD MAXIMUM SECURITY PENITENTIARY**

_Prisoner 003_

They had brought him into this strange room ages ago. It looked like a conference room, not that he’d ever actually had occasion to be in a conference room before. If there was supposed to be a fucking conference here, though, then they’d better actually bring some other people in. Because at the moment, it was just him, sitting alone, handcuffed to a long polished white table with his feet chained to the floor. Four agents standing stock-still in the corners of the room, but Steve didn’t count them. After all, the jury was still out on their humanity.

Finally the door made the whooshing noise that reminded him of his old freezer in the apartment where he’d grown up. He looked over, and he nearly fell out of his chair. Well, he would have nearly fallen out of his chair if he weren’t so securely anchored in place. His best friend and fellow prisoner, Bucky Barnes AKA Winter Soldier was standing in the doorway.

“Steve?” Bucky sounded incredulous.

“Hey, Buck. How’s prison life treating you?” Steve smirked.

“Fuck you,” Bucky grumbled as the guards led him to a seat and began securing him.

Steve frowned as he noticed the way that Bucky’s metal arm lay limp at his side. One of the guards lifted it up and secured it to the table. He noticed the longing look that briefly passed over Bucky’s eyes when he looked down at it, lying motionless on the table in front of him. A rush of anger flooded through Steve; what the hell had they done to him?

There wasn’t much time to consider this new development before the door opened again. Apparently Steve had just been extremely early to the party since everyone suddenly seemed to be showing up. In the doorway stood a tall, thin man flanked by beefy guards. Steve recognized him to be the guy he’d glimpsed on his first night as he’d been led through the cell blocks. He had wavy black hair, strikingly pale skin, and an air of superiority radiating from his every pore. Even though he was in prison scrubs and about to be handcuffed to a fucking conference table, he looked like he was a king arriving to his coronation.

What the hell was this, anyway? Group therapy for fucking super villains? Steve glared suspiciously at the newcomer. The newcomer sneered at him, but met the challenge in his eyes head-on. Steve felt an immediate dislike for the man.

The guards that had escorted in Bucky and the other man left the room. Immediately a strong air of tension filled the room. Steve glared at the stranger, while Bucky just frowned at the table. The man somehow managed to glare at both Steve and Bucky at the same time. Which was actually slightly impressive considering the fact that Bucky was sitting two seats to the guy’s left and Steve was sitting directly across the table from him.

The more Steve looked at him, the more convinced he was that this dude was probably a vampire. His pale skin, inky black hair, and unnaturally bright eyes definitely seemed inhuman. Also, they were in an underground prison; Steve hadn’t seen the sun since he arrived.

He wondered who would win in a fight: the cyborgs or Count Chalk-ula. The cyborgs were wild cards. Steve wasn’t sure how they would react in a real fight, but he assumed they would be able to hold their own. If they weren’t any good at fighting, then what was the point? And vampires were supposed to be supernaturally strong and fast, so it was really a toss-up. Either way, he and Bucky were probably fucked.

_Whoosh_

The door once again opened. This time the dentist that had done his intake was at the door, along with a guy sporting an eye-patch and a coat straight out of The Matrix. Behind them there were more guards escorting in another prisoner.

His eyes widened slightly when he realized it was the creepy humming chick he’d seen his first night in. Her long blond hair seemed to blow behind her like she was in a music video or something. She more or less floated into the room, and when she saw Steve she winked at him. He forced himself to look away and noticed the fire burning in the pale man’s eyes. Looking back at the woman he watched her expression shift to a mask of violence when she saw the black haired man.

She let out a feral scream and lunged at the guy across the table. To his credit the guy didn’t even flinch. Steve thought if it had been him, he might have, very possibly, shit his fucking pants.

The guards fought against her. From his seat, Steve could hear the buzzing of the electric currents in her handcuffs, but she didn’t even seem fazed by the shocks.

Finally they got her seated and locked into place. She still glared ferociously at the man across the table, and Steve watched in horror as she leaned forward slightly and spit across the table at Vampire Dude.

“Ever the lady,” the man said tersely.

The blond woman snarled viciously, snapping her teeth in an animalistic movement that made Steve flinch. Steve watched the two strangers glare hotly at each other. Seriously, if looks could kill, everyone in this entire prison would have been obliterated.

“So, you two know each other or is this just how you greet everybody?” Steve finally asked.

The woman made a rather disturbing growling noise.

“Shut up, all of you!” the man with the eye-patch commanded from his position at the head of the table.

The dentist guy looked to eye-patch and cleared his throat, “So, you may be wondering what you’re all doing here,” he began.

Steve couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He smirked and tried to catch Bucky’s eye, but Bucky’s eyes were glazed over and staring off into space. He frowned, and then he saw the glare from the boss man, and he cleared his throat looking down at the table.

“Let’s just cut to the chase. You’re being given a chance to prove you’re not complete fucking wastes of space,” Matrix said slapping his hands down on the table and looking over them.

The black haired man, or possibly vampire, made a derisive noise.

“You got something to say, Loki?” Matrix could glare more fiercely with one eye than Steve had ever seen from any two-eyed person.

“Oh no, _Director Fury_. Please do continue your _thrilling_ little speech,” Loki replied.

Steve finally caught Bucky's gaze, and they exchanged raised eyebrows. They may have been on the run for the last several years, but they hadn’t been living under rocks. Everyone had heard of the psychopath Loki who’d tried to take over New York _fucking_ City with an _alien army_.

“We’re setting you four out on the streets,” Dentist Man stated.

There was silence around the table. Steve waited for crickets to start chirping.

“Um, what?” he finally said.

“You heard me. There’s a new threat aboveground, and we’re sending you in to fight it.”

“Are you serious?” Bucky finally spoke up.

“Do I look like I’m joking, Soldier?” he glared at Bucky.

“No, Sir,” Bucky ducked his head.

“Why not just send your precious _Avengers_ to save the day?” Loki sneered.

“Because I’m sending you four in to do the dirty work! Any more stupid questions?” the director’s eye surveyed the four faces at the table.

For a moment there was silence, but then a faint chuckling grew increasingly louder. Amora threw her head back, laughing almost hysterically. Everyone stared at her; it was impossible not to. The column of her throat vibrated with her melodic laughter. Something about the whole scene was mesmerizing. Finally she stopped and just stared at the others around the table, her eyes sparkling and a borderline maniacal smile splitting her face.

Yeah, this was definitely a good idea.


	6. Ready? No? Go Anyway!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team of misfits hits the streets. Things do not go very well (what a surprise, right?). The strength of their enemy is revealed to be greater than anticipated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy this chapter. The action is picking up now! Thanks for reading!

**LOCATION: UPSTATE NEW YORK**

_Prisoner 003, AKA Captain_

He reeled back at the impact of another perfectly aimed punch to his jaw.

“Ready to give up, yet, weakling?” the skull-like mask asked.

Steve wiped his hand across his mouth, spitting the blood onto the gravel below his feet. His head was throbbing, he was seeing double, and his left arm killed where he could feel the shattered bones knitting back together. All in all, things were not looking good. He wondered if the others were faring any better.

* * *

 

Things hadn’t started off so bad. Okay, maybe that was a bit of a stretch. The whole way to their destination Amora and Loki had been bitching at each other. Bucky had been silent, staring at the floor of the van as if it was the single most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. Steve had had a headache before they’d even hit the pavement.

They had been dumped outside a huge mansion. Standing there in their prison scrubs, Steve felt extremely conspicuous. Thankfully, it seemed that the place was preparing for some kind of fancy shindig. Workers swarmed all over the massive lawns, white vans with a rainbow of logos were parked all around the grand circular driveway. It was complete organized chaos.

A tingling sensation had washed over his body, and when he looked down, he was dressed in a catering company uniform. Next to him, Bucky was suddenly dressed like a gardener complete with grass stains. Loki and Amora were also transformed; Loki stood in an electrician’s coveralls and Amora wore an expensive looking suit holding a clipboard and smirking at the others.

The group had proceeded to split up across the yawning estate. Their task was to gather intel and get the lay of the land. Apparently, SHIELD had intel that some serious shit was going to go down at this party tonight. And that was pretty much the only instruction they’d received, much to Steve’s frustration.

It had only been two days since they’d first been assembled in the prison conference room. During the time in between they had been introduced to Agents Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff. The two agents had done some hardcore training exercises with the four prisoners. They had fought against the two agents and robots (much to Steve’s chagrin) that turned into the other Avengers.

No one would explain why they were practicing fighting the Avengers. Loki and Amora had continued to snap at each other at any given opportunity, going so far as to sabotage each other’s fights. Apparently the powers-that-be were not amused because both sorcerers ended up writhing on the ground clutching at their heads. That was how they had discovered what would happen if they disobeyed their orders or tried to go rogue. Barton had taken great pleasure in laughing at Loki’s agony. He had also been more than happy to tell them that the implants in their heads could also be used to blow them up, so that was fun.

If he was being honest, Steve was impressed by the skills demonstrated by the two sorcerers. Both of them were incredibly powerful. Amora had easily defeated any foes presented to her, human or robot. Loki was incredibly tricky, too. Steve watched in wonder as the strange man (or vampire) would create an army of his own duplicates to overwhelm the enemy. This tactic worked especially well against Barton, who apparently had a personal vendetta against Loki.

Steve and Bucky, despite not having any magical powers, held their own perfectly well. When the two of them fought together they could take down their opponents with a well-practiced ease. The two of them moved in sync, like long-time dance partners. Bucky would deflect Barton’s arrows with his metal arm and Steve would slide under his partner to take down the archer.

Honestly, if the four of them could actually work together they might stand a chance against whatever threat it was they were being sent out to deal with. However, aside from Steve and Bucky, the team dynamics were shaky at best. Amora and Loki absolutely refused to work together, instead choosing to sabotage and/or antagonize one another. Steve and Bucky didn’t trust either one of their fellow prisoners, so their movements were stiff and uncoordinated.

The few times that they had all been forced to work together it hadn’t ended well. Bucky accidentally knocked Loki out with his metal arm when Steve crashed into him avoiding one of Barton’s arrows that Amora had simply stepped aside from, leaving her teammates exposed. Then, Amora had literally started Loki on fire. That had been interesting; Steve learned a lot of new and inventive curses from the Asgardian. The final attempt had ended in a dog pile after Amora shot an energy blast that ricocheted off of Bucky’s arm and sent Steve and Loki crashing into Barton and Romanoff. So, that last one had technically been a victory, but… not really.

This morning they had been assembled in the conference room once again. They hadn’t been strapped to the table this time. Instead they stood in row like a pathetic, sleep-deprived, chain-gang. Fury and Coulson had proceeded to give them the world’s shortest and least-informative briefing. Then they’d been unceremoniously herded out to a van, hooded, and driven to this mansion.

Steve’s afternoon had passed fairly uneventfully. He had learned that he was a terrible waiter. His hors d'oeuvres looked like they were made by a fucking kindergartner and his ‘boss’ told him as much. Whatever, when the dick wasn’t looking Steve added hot sauce to the punch bowl. He hoped the guy would get fired.

A brief rendezvous in the basement, had led to them discovering that the party was being thrown by a top weapon’s dealer. His business was technically legit, but there were rumors about who would be attending the soiree. Also, Loki informed them that in his explorations he had discovered a sealed room in the sub-basement (the place had a fucking _sub-basement_ ) that he was pretty sure led to a weapon’s lab.

Amora and Loki had proceeded to get into another petty argument when she had changed their outfits. Apparently Loki was not a fan of the red and silver color scheme Amora had chosen. Steve rolled his eyes at Bucky, but Bucky wasn’t paying attention to him. He was staring blankly off into space. Steve frowned, and nudged his friend’s shoulder. Bucky blinked at him blankly for a few seconds before offering a weak smile that didn’t come close to his eyes.

They had changed Bucky’s uniform to a bouncer’s suit and dark glasses. Steve had watched the look of amazement on his old friend’s face when his metal hand dissolved into human flesh. But when he had touched it, his face had dropped and he’d shoved the hand into his pocket with a frown.

Steve was stuck continuing to play the waiter. He had argued that Loki should take a turn, but since Loki had magical powers to change his own appearance Steve was SOL. Loki stood in a crisp tuxedo with an emerald bow tie and matching crisp silk pocket square. Amora stuck with the low-cut red gown and silver shoes.

The group had once again dispersed, and things had gone smoothly for a while. Steve had swirled around the party guests proffering trays of champagne. He’d watched in amusement as Amora floated through the guests flirting with the men while Loki scowled darkly from across the room. Several women and men started to approach Loki only to be death-glared into a hasty retreat.

Steve had almost dropped his tray on an unsuspecting old man with an impressive handle bar mustache when a voice sounded in his ear, barking at him to get up to the roof. Apparently in addition to the exploding implant, SHIELD had taken the liberty to equip them with embedded comms units. So Steve had made his way carefully up to the roof. And there he had been met by a man (?) in a hooded cape with a creepy as hell mask. That was how Steve found himself being beaten, badly, by some kind of master-fighter who wore his underwear outside of the rest of his clothing.

No matter what tactic Steve adopted, the monster would quickly learn his moves and block all of Steve’s blows. So basically, it wasn’t looking great for him at this point.

“What the fuck _are_ you?” Steve gasped, narrowly dodging a punch.

“I am Taskmaster!”

“Right. Great name, dude,” Steve muttered.

A noise briefly drew Steve’s attention from the hulking freakshow he was battling. And in that moment, he felt a powerful kick connect with his temple. He staggered, stars flashing in his vision, until a fist pounded the same spot and the stars imploded into darkness.

* * *

 

_Enchantress_

She had been flirting with the mortal party guests when a figure in her peripheral vision caught her attention. A brunette woman in a deep scarlet colored gown, similar in color to her own, skirted along the edge of the party. For a brief moment the woman’s gaze darted over the teeming masses of human partygoers. In that quick glance, Amora saw it. _Magic_.

* * *

 

 

_Trickster_

This gathering was tedious beyond belief. Loki sulked by an incredibly ridiculous sculpture in a corner of the congested space. He couldn’t even see the black and white marble tiled floor anymore under all of the shoes converging on its perfectly shined surface. It was getting claustrophobic.

He had quickly tired of observing Amora using her ridiculous charms on the weak human males at the gathering. Anyway, she seemed to have disappeared; must have found a candidate worth further attentions. Loki sneered as the thought crossed his mind.

At some point he had also lost track of the Captain. Not that he really cared what that insufferable human got up to. But he felt vindicated in his personal prediction that this team would be an epic failure.

Suddenly he noticed a familiar, broad-shouldered figure facing away from his in the middle of the room. His senses immediately went on high-alert. Could it be? Was it possible that he would be so lucky? A wicked grin started to form on his lips, until he remembered the implant in his head. He was loath to admit it, but the memory of the pain it could inflict was still raw in his mind.

 _But_ … He could just play dumb, couldn’t he? Before he could think it through any more, he began winding his way through the crowd. The blond hair was like a target, everything else fell out of focus as he moved with singular purpose towards his erstwhile brother.

* * *

 

_Enchantress_

The woman was sneaking down the dim stairway that Amora knew must lead to the sub-basement. She held her breath as the woman shot another suspicious look over her shoulder. Once again, the woman’s eyes strained when she looked in Amora’s general vicinity, but Amora had concealed herself well. Eventually, the woman turned around and proceeded down the stairs.

Amora could see an intimidating metal door like the ones at the SHIELD prison a few yards ahead of them in the dimly lit cement corridor. Two armed guards flanked the door. But the woman proceeded undaunted. The men were now watching her approach with matching frowns.

When she got to the men, she murmured something to them and Amora watched as the men seemed to freeze up. Quietly, the strange woman slipped a card off of one of the men and used it to open the door. Amora hurried to sneak through the door before it could seal itself shut once again. The men seemed to be in some sort of trance she noticed as she passed them by.

Once inside the room, Amora took in the huge lab. So this must be the weapons lab that Loki had mentioned earlier. Scientific equipment was spread all over the bright, white space. There were caution signs and other signs with symbols that seemed to insinuate danger. Amora only spared a minute to take all of this in.

Ahead of her the woman was quickly moving towards another sealed door. Once again she used the card to open it. Amora stifled a gasp when the brunette glanced over her shoulder; her irises glowed red.

* * *

 

_Trickster_

Loki struggled to catch his breath. He had been foolish, following this man out into the garden away from the party. Now he was crouching behind a shrub fighting to regain his composure before the next attack.

“Oh, brother! Come out, come out wherever you are!”

The voice sent a shiver through Loki’s already trembling body. This man, or whatever he was, was not Thor. He looked like Thor, moved like Thor, even sounded like Thor, but there was a sinister magic at work here. Loki could feel it whenever he looked into the creature’s fathomless black eyes.

Thor was one of the few beings who could best Loki in battle and this, _whatever_ it was, had Thor’s strength even without Mjolnir. Fiery pain burned in several places on Loki’s battered form. He grimaced, but there was no time to heal his wounds. Heavy footsteps were already encroaching on his hiding place.

This was it. He was going to die on Midgard. At least, he supposed, it wouldn’t be in that awful underground prison. Certainly he would have preferred it if he could have known the enemy that was to be his killer. He even wished it was his true brother; that would be better than dying at the hand of this abomination.

He choked in surprise as a fist broke through the shrub and grabbed his throat. The giant swung Loki around like a rag doll until they were face-to-face. Loki was once again nauseated by the swirling black irises that bore into his own. He could feel his energy sapping from his veins, and with it his magic was quickly dissipating.

Suddenly a flash of metal crashed into the doppleganger’s temple. Loki blinked in surprise as he dropped to the grassy earth. He looked up to see the Winter Soldier glaring fiercely at the Thor imposter. The look in the man’s eyes was wild, almost inhuman.

He flexed his metal fist before once again driving it into the imposter’s face. The Thor lookalike roared angrily. But this metal-armed man that Loki had sorely underestimated kept him down. Loki watched, his mouth slightly gaping as the much smaller man decimated his large foe. Soon, all that Loki could see of the hauntingly familiar face was a mask of blood.

“Come on. Let’s get out of here,” the man extended his metal hand to Loki.

Still stunned, Loki almost accepted the proffered hand before noticing the coating of blood that covered the silver material. The Winter Soldier followed Loki’s gaze and quickly lowered the hand, wiping it on his suit before hoisting Loki up with his other hand.

* * *

 

_Enchantress_

Amora’s legs felt shaky as she made her way blindly outside the mansion. Her mind was still reeling from what she had seen inside the deep recesses of the weapons lab below ground. The strange woman had led her into a much darker room. And when Amora’s eyes adjusted she had seen… She shook her head, as if she could dislodge the memory; it was unlike her to be so unnerved by anything. But this, this was unlike anything she’d ever expected to find on Midgard.

* * *

 

_Captain_

Steve slowly became aware of someone shaking him. He groaned low in his throat. His head was being attacked internally by a jackhammer, and his body felt like it’d been run over by a cement truck that then proceeded to dump its payload over him.

“Come on, man. Wake up, please!” a voice whispered urgently in Steve’s ear.

It took a moment, but suddenly everything came rushing back to him. He gasped and shot up, knocking into the man that had been hunched over him. Steve’s eyes roved wildly around him, but it was just Bucky. Bucky; Steve’s heartbeat began to slow and he smiled at the familiar face.

Bucky cleared his throat and darted his eyes towards another figure. Steve recognized the towering figure of Loki standing with his arms crossed over his chest sporting a dispassionate expression. The smile slipped from his face, and he struggled to stand up. Bucky attempted to assist him, but Steve shook him off.

When he was standing, facing Loki he took in the condition of the other man. Loki’s lip was split, his left eyebrow gashed open. Blood and scratches seemed to cover him. If it was possible, he looked even paler than normal. As he stared, Steve noticed that Bucky was also looking rumpled from a fight. He certainly looked better than Loki, and undoubtedly Steve himself. But knowing his friend as well as he did, Steve could tell. The raw edge still lingered in Bucky’s urgent gaze. A pang of regret and guilt shot through Steve’s chest.

But he was soon distracted by a blond woman staggering out of the roof access door. She was moving unsteadily, but Steve still recognized her undeniable draw. Beside him, Steve could feel Loki’s body tensing. As Amora drew closer, Steve frowned at the wild look in her eyes.

She stumbled up to them and reflexively, Steve held out his arms to steady her. Next to him, he noticed Loki curl his hands into fists. Amora looked up at him, a strange urgency rolling off her in waves.

“We need to get out of here. Now!” she whispered hoarsely.

“Are you OK?” Steve questioned.

Amora glanced behind her shoulder, and when she turned back to them she looked absolutely terrified. Steve turned to his companions, gauging their reactions. Bucky’s face had slipped into an unreadable mask which worried Steve, but he couldn’t dwell on it right then. Loki’s eyes were burning darkly. He was glaring off behind Amora as if he would personally disembowel anyone who came through that door.

“Loki,” she turned to him, wide-eyed.

Although he remained silent, Loki met her gaze. They stared at each other for a moment. It seemed that they were having a conversation without words.

Suddenly Amora’s hands shot out, gripping Bucky and Loki. Steve moved to loosen his grip on her, but she shot him a look that stopped him. She closed her eyes, and Steve felt a wind start to circle around them. It increased in intensity, until a golden mist blocked out everything else.


	7. Seeing Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Renegades return to SHIELD Maximum Security Penitentiary battered and bruised. No one has all the pieces to the puzzle that is the previous night's events.

**LOCATION: SHIELD MAXIMUM SECURITY PENITENTIARY**

_Winter Soldier_

His dreams were fraught with disparate images: blood on metal, empty obsidian, confused blue eyes blinking blearily. Nightmare after nightmare left him awake and sweating in the small hours of the morning. It was quiet all around him; he was left alone with just his thoughts. He couldn’t think of anything worse.

In all his years on the run he had at least had Steve. Now, in this prison, he found himself truly alone more often than he was prepared for. He hated spending time by himself; that was when the worst of the memories surfaced. Even if he knew, deep down, that his reliance on Steve was maybe a bit unhealthy, it didn’t change how much he needed him.

This place was hell. He was genuinely trapped in purgatory. Sure, they had let him out now and again, but in the end he always found himself back in the cell at the end of the day. They always brought him back to his solitude to lie awake and think about all of his regrets and mistakes instead of sleeping. It was impossible for him to sleep soundly without the comforting presence he had grown so used to. Now when he did fall asleep he was plagued by nightmares.

He wondered if Steve had the same problems. Probably not; Steve was so much stronger than he was. Even when they were kids and Steve was always getting sick, he was still stronger than Bucky. Bucky had been able to physically stand up for Steve in a fight. But that was just an illusion: smoke and mirrors. He knew that he was a weak echo of Steve’s character and strength on a good day. And lately, he hadn’t been having any good days.

Bucky tossed and turned on the cot, a vague sense of nausea causing him discomfort. Despite his best efforts, he kept coming back to two things from the night’s events. First, the obsidian eyes that he’d seen on that monstrous man that had been attacking Loki. The problem with that whole encounter was that he didn’t remember anything between seeing that beast and Loki’s horrified expression when he saw the blood soaking Bucky’s metal hand.

Steve’s face was the other memory from the evening that was haunting him. He kept beating himself up for being such a fucking pussy. The way the smile had slid from Steve’s face, still caused Bucky’s stomach to drop heavily. Then he would recall the shuttered look on Steve’s face as he had shaken off Bucky’s attempts to help him to his feet. A lump filled his throat and he felt a heavy burning behind his eyes. Too tired to fight it off anymore, Bucky turned onto his stomach and buried his face in the single pillow. His silent sobs wracked his body.

* * *

 

His eyes felt fuzzy and strained as he entered the conference room. Steve was already seated, his head tipped back and eyes closed. Bucky swallowed hard and followed the guard to his seat. He made no movements as the guard secured him. A fleeting moment of self-pity hit him when the guard hefted his limp metal arm onto the table. Bucky turned away in disgust, looking at nothing in particular to avoid seeing all of the things he didn’t want to.

Loki was seated a couple of chairs over from Bucky. The Asgardian seemed lost in thought and didn’t even glance in Bucky’s direction. His pale skin looked even more pale than usual, his black hair hung limply around his face, obscuring his eyes. A slight tremble in Loki’s right hand drew Bucky’s attention. It was barely noticeable, but his hand definitely shook slightly within the bracelet cuff.

The door opened again allowing Coulson and Fury to enter. Both men made their way to the front of the room. Coulson looked as unflappable as ever. Fury looked as angry as ever. They stood at the head of the table surveying the sorry crew seated around them.

“Any of you want to tell me what the hell happened last night?” Fury finally snarled.

His question was met by silence from the three prisoners seated around the table. When Bucky looked at the others he saw that Loki was still zoned out. Steve’s eyes were now slit open, subtly taking in the scene. He wondered briefly where Amora was.

“Well, I threw up. A lot. That whole teleportation thing is gnarly,” Steve sighed, lazily leaning back his head again.

Fury’s anger seemed to intensify, “Rogers!”

Steve ignored the tone in the director’s voice, once again allowing his eyes to slide shut.

“I saw my brother,” Loki said so quietly that Bucky wondered if he’d meant to speak the words aloud.

“What?” Fury demanded.

Loki turned a deadly gaze toward the director and Coulson, “I _said_ I saw Thor last night.”

Coulson shot a look at Fury that Fury either didn’t notice or completely ignored. Bucky was going to go with the latter.

Turning to Bucky Loki added, “The Winter Soldier assisted me in battle against the creature. It was not truly Thor. I do not know what manner of beast we encountered, but it drained my abilities quite thoroughly.”

The SHIELD agents’ expressions turned to Bucky who flushed and stared diligently at the table as if that would make them look away. It didn’t work.

“Barnes? What’s he talking about?” Fury challenged.

Bucky could feel the fire heating up his face, and he couldn’t decide where to turn his attention. Anxiety pooled in his stomach at being called out. His eyes flitted up, briefly settling on Steve who returned his gaze with concern.

“Um, I heard something and went to investigate. I found Loki being strangled by a huge blond guy and uh, yeah,” Bucky finished lamely, his cheeks burning.

“And, uh, _yeah_? You’re gonna have to do better than that, Soldier,” Fury replied.

Bucky squirmed in his seat. To his horror he felt tears come rushing to fill his eyes, and he fought furiously against gravity to keep them from falling. He could feel the scrutinizing gazes making his skin itch. The feeling took him back to school when a teacher would call on him. He’d never known the answers, and he could still remember how the other kids would laugh at whatever stupid response the teacher finally forced out of him. This felt an awful lot like those humiliating moments from his past.

“Well? We’re waiting, Soldier,” Fury pressed.

“I don’t remember,” Bucky mumbled.

“What the hell do you mean you don’t remember?” Fury exclaimed.

“He means he doesn’t remember, so fuck off,” Steve glared heatedly at Fury.

Bucky couldn’t help the wave of relief that washed over him. His cheeks instantly began to cool, although his ears were still hot. He said a silent prayer of thanks that Steve always had his back, even though he didn’t deserve it.

“Perhaps I might assist in relaying events,” Loki inserted, effectively cutting off a blow-up, “The Soldier managed to knock the creature down with his metal fist. He then helped me to escape. We absconded to the roof where we discovered the Captain unconscious. Once again, the Winter Soldier acted swiftly and woke the Captain. Then Amora, in an obvious state of great distress, came forth and teleported us away from that dreadful place.”

Fury seemed to soak this information up before responding, “And what did Amora see that had her so _distressed_?”

The three prisoners all exchanged looks of uncertainty before Loki spoke for the group, “We do not know.”

* * *

 

_Enchantress_

Colors swirled, ebbing and flowing in a soothing pattern. Gossamer threads of gold danced around sharp metallic silvers, emerald green flashes pulsed around flickers of textured navy blue. There was blackness, there was the dim grayness of predawn, and then there was red: brilliant scarlet red glowing in hollow circles.

Amora gasped harshly, shooting up into a sitting position. Her hands protested when she tried to move too much, and she looked down to see them in cuffs linked to an unfamiliar bedframe. Closing her eyes, Amora paused to collect her thoughts. Slowly memories began to filter in.

 _Prison_. Right, she was in prison. It appeared that she was currently in some sort of infirmary. There was a distinctly medicinal smell in the air. She wasn’t sure how she had gotten here, though.

“You’re awake,” a cheerful redheaded woman appeared in the curtained cubicle.

Amora regarded her suspiciously, but nodded slowly.

“Good,” the woman smiled pleasantly and went about checking the various beeping instruments surrounding Amora’s cot.

“Where am I?” Amora’s voice was hoarse and she cleared her throat.

“You’re in the infirmary at SHIELD Pen,” the woman replied distractedly.

Amora fell silent again and watched as the woman went about her business. She held something in her hands that she kept making notes on.

Finally she looked up at Amora with another smile, “Looks like you’re doing much better! I’ll go get your release form submitted and bring you some water.”

Before long the woman was back again with the promised water, and Amora greedily swallowed the liquid as the doctor held the cup up for her.

An agent appeared in the cubicle, and the woman nodded at him before shooting Amora one final smile and leaving the space. The agent came over to Amora and helped her to her feet, securing the cuffs behind her back once she was safely on her feet. As they walked through the corridors Amora tried to remember the events that had led her to the infirmary. Her mind felt heavy and clumsy.

Once she was back in her familiar cell, Amora settled on the floor, leaning her back against her cot. She closed her eyes and summoned her inner strength. The memories were there; she could feel them lurking just out of her grasp. Allowing her body to relax completely and her consciousness to slip away, Amora reached deep.

There was a rattling feeling as her body trembled, but then the dam broke and it all came rushing over her. She was frozen, unable to even gasp as the barrage of images assaulted her. When it was finished she sat shivering in the stillness.

The woman in the scarlet dress had been the catalyst of everything. All of the memories led back to that mysterious brunette. Once again, the image of her glowing red irises seared Amora’s mind.

She had followed the woman into the sub-basement. They had gone into what appeared to be a weapon’s lab after the woman had somehow entranced the guards. Then Amora had followed the woman into another chamber within the sprawling lab. That was when she had seen it.

The smaller room was much more dimly lit than the previous bright, white space. Still concealed, Amora had been able to hide undetected in plain sight. When her eyes had adjusted she had once again seen scarlet. This time it was the face of a monster that wore the color like a hideous mask. Amora had stood in silence as she watched the scarlet witch bow deeply to the haunting man. It was when he had turned to acknowledge his company that Amora had truly seen the horror of his visage.

It was no mask. The man’s face was covered in red. In place of any of the traditional colors of human flesh, this man had a mask of bright red. His hard black irises seemed to see through the witch to Amora’s hiding place. Even still, she had been frozen in a sort of grotesque fascination.

When she was finally able to tear her gaze away from the haunting creature, she had taken in the rest of the shadowy space. If she’d thought that the red skull of the man was horrifying, what she saw in the rest of the room was far worse.

Around the perimeter there were several large, clear cylinders that reached from the floor to the ceiling. Inside each cylinder there was some sort of indistinct form, marred from view by what appeared to be frost. Amora had strained against the darkness attempting to discern what the shapes in the cylinders were.

Finally, she had cautiously skirted around the room to take a closer look. At first she had still been confused by what she saw. But then… Her mind had finally comprehended what her eyes were seeing. The cylinders contained… _humans_. She had scarcely managed to stifle her gasp of shock. 

But then someone else had entered the chamber. A man’s substantial silhouette stood in the doorway for a second, briefly eclipsed by the bright light from the room behind him. When the door had sealed shut behind him, Amora had once again had to force herself to silence her surprise.

In the doorway stood a very familiar figure: _Thor_. Amora’s throat immediately dried out. She could feel her pulse accelerating. Certainly they heard her galloping heartbeat. She was trapped in this dim dungeon with a group of monsters. Cold determination sharpened her senses and she drew her head up defiantly. She was the Enchantress; she could take these monsters, no contest.

But she hadn’t needed to. Thor had made his way to the other two and bowed in front of the red-skulled man just as the witch in the scarlet gown had done. Amora had watched carefully, and when Thor turned his head slightly she saw it. His eyes were entirely black. Whatever this _creature_ was, it was not Thor.

Forcing herself to focus on their words Amora heard the doppelganger say that it had fought the Trickster. It continued to inform its cohorts that the god had been assisted by a human male with a metal arm. She exhaled a breath she hadn’t even been aware she was holding in as he informed them that both men had escaped.

The man was furious. He screamed incoherently and knocked around the room, pounding at the intermittently scattered tables, and dashing their contents to the floor in his fury. Both the Thor doppelganger and the witch seemed cowed by the man’s outburst.

Finally he turned to them and screamed for them to find the men and fix their mess. Amora had quickly snapped to action, slipping out the door behind the two others. She had thought that she would surely burst, being forced to follow them until they finally reached the main floor again. She hadn’t waited to see where they went next. Turning away from them she had used her powers to hone in on the location of her fellow prisoners.

After she had stumbled onto the roof she had rushed to her companions blindly. She had barely even taken a moment to look at them. Her mind had been solely occupied with getting away. It had only taken a second to determine that Loki wouldn’t be able to help her and the others teleport away; something had drained his powers and he was looking quite weak. Without any further hesitation, Amora had gathered the men around her and taken them away from that evil place.

Amora stared at the ceiling of her cell. Her veins felt icy and she felt jumpy with misplaced adrenaline. What had happened after they teleported? After the golden mists of her powers surrounded them, Amora’s memories ended abruptly. What of the others? Were they safe?

She crawled up onto her cot, shrouding herself in the white sheets. Her body trembled in the sudden darkness she had cocooned herself in. Amora breathed deeply, trying to calm her body. Slowly, she began to drift off to sleep. But the visions of red followed her into slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your kudos and comments- I love to get both!:)


	8. Vampires, Witches, and Demons, Oh My!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Renegades are reunited for some training still feeling the effects of their recent defeat. Steve decides that things need to change.

**LOCATION: SHIELD MAXIMUM SECURITY PENITENTIARY**

_Captain_

The team had been reassembled for training. A few days of solitude in his cell had passed slowly for Steve so he was glad for the change of pace. Although, no one else seemed too excited by the prospect. In fact, the other three members of the team were still looking quite… haggard.

Bucky was slumped against the wall poking at his metal arm. He seemed to be avoiding looking at Steve. In fact, he seemed to be avoiding looking at anyone. When Steve had greeted him, Bucky had actually flinched. Maybe he thought if he didn’t look up Steve wouldn’t notice the darkness under his eyes, the way his stubble was beginning to grow out, and the troubled frown that seemed permanently affixed to his face. It didn’t work, though; Steve still noticed.

Amora’s eyes kept darting suspiciously around the room. It caused her to look like a furtive squirrel or chipmunk or something. Steve would have chuckled, but the look in her eyes was nervous. Her posture was less sure than he was used to seeing. Sure, she still looked absolutely stunning and the draw was still unmistakably there, but she was carrying a heavy burden.

Loki appeared to be recovered and currently deep in thought. Although he looked better, he didn’t look the same. His usually impeccably kept appearance was a bit rough around the edges. He had his black hair sloppily pulled back and his sweats were actually rumpled. A trace of five o’clock shadow darkened his jawline, making him look even more brooding and pensive than usual.

He wasn’t sure what to do. It seemed that if they were going to get anything done they needed a team leader. However, no one was stepping up to the plate. That left Steve. He wasn’t entirely sure he was cut out to lead this group. But he supposed that someone had to try.

Unsure how to get their attention, Steve cleared his throat. None of them even glanced in his direction. It had been a pretty weak attempt, if he was being honest. An idea popped into his head, a really terrible and probably suicidal idea. Nonetheless, before he could really think about it he sprang into action.

He had Loki in a headlock, arms restrained before the god even knew what hit him. “What in the-” Loki spluttered.

“Shut up,” Steve replied.

He now had the others’ attention. Amora stared at him with saucer-eyes and Bucky had slowly risen from his seat on the floor. Both of them slowly approached, circling cautiously around the two men.

“Get away from me,” Steve said in Loki’s ear, “without magic.”

“You have got to be joking, mortal,” Loki struggled against Steve’s iron grip.

“Not even a little bit, Trickster.”

Loki grunted angrily from his disadvantaged position. But after a moment of stillness, he made his first move.

Steve’s sharpened senses picked up on the scuffling sound of their shoes against the cement floor. He could smell the hint of soap on Loki’s skin. The increased pace of Loki’s heartbeat pumped through his thin T-shirt.

They wrestled against each other fruitlessly. Loki may have had the strength of a god, but he was out of practice.

Suddenly Steve felt a sharp and unexpected sensation on his forearm. He ripped his arm away from Loki in shock, and the Asgardian slipped away from him. Loki turned to look at Steve smirking as he followed Steve’s stunned gaze to the fresh wound.

“What the-” Steve spluttered, “I fucking _knew_ you were a vampire!”

“Did he _bite_ you?” Bucky walked over, grabbing Steve’s arm.

Steve followed Bucky’s gaze and they both stared at the red indents forming an angry oval on his flesh.

“Jesus Christ! He drew _blood_!” Bucky said.

Steve glared at Loki, but the god simply smiled serenely. Amora giggled suddenly from the corner where she had been observing the action. Loki shot her a wicked smile and the two of them both laughed.  Steve and Bucky exchanged a look, and when Bucky's lips twitched they both lost it. Soon the four of them were all laughing together.

“What exactly was the point of this little exercise?” Loki finally caught his breath.

“Proving a point,” Steve replied.

Loki rolled his eyes.

Steve smirked, “I seem to recall that you got your ass handed to you during your last fight.”

Loki’s expression sobered, storm clouds passing through his green eyes.

“You said whatever it was that you fought drained your magic,” Steve continued, “So we need to be prepared to fight without your powers if the need should arise. Bucky and I have had years of practice with hand-to-hand and our own enhanced abilities, but we still need to know you have our backs,” he glanced at both Loki and Amora.

It was quiet for a while until Amora’s voice broke the silence, “Captain, I am afraid you underestimate us.”

“We come from a place where warriors are valued highly. I can assure you that we are able to take care of ourselves. What happened the other night- I was unprepared, I admit. Perhaps if SHIELD had warned us we might encounter combat, or provided us with the proper defenses…” Loki trailed off.

After a moment Amora added, “I saw our enemy up close, and we will need to stay sharp to defeat those monsters. They are not human, and we mustn’t underestimate their strength and cunning.”

“What did you see? We need to know what we’re up against. Obviously we can’t rely on SHIELD after they just dumped us in the middle of that shit-show,” Steve said.

Amora sighed before nodding. She proceeded to tell the others what she had seen, the woman in the scarlet dress that she had followed into the sub-basement. Steve raised his eyebrows at the part about the woman’s eyes glowing red. Definitely sounded like they were dealing with a bona fide demon.

“And inside the chamber there was someone waiting for her,” Amora continued, “He had flesh the color of which I have not seen on any other humans: completely red.”

Steve heard the choked sound from Bucky’s direction that coordinated with his own sharp intake of breath. The two soldiers turned to look at each other. There was panic and terror in Bucky’s wide-eyed gaze that mimicked the twist of dread Steve felt in his own stomach.

“No,” Bucky whispered, desperately staring at Steve as if he could erase the words that had been spoken.

Steve moved closer to his friend, dropping what he hoped was a reassuring palm on Bucky’s shoulder. The slight tremor he felt there was subtle enough that Steve hadn’t noticed it. But his heart dropped in his chest when he felt it.

“What is it?” Loki asked.

Steve drew in a deep breath and blew it back out before responding, “Red Skull.”

* * *

 

_Winter Soldier_

The weight of Steve’s warm palm against his shoulder did little to alleviate the rising tide of panic within. Slight tremors, that he hoped no one noticed, surged through his body. As the words he thought that he’d left behind in nightmares rolled off of Steve’s tongue, a violent shiver shook his entire frame.

Steve met his eyes. Bucky could see the concern, but he could also see the fear and panic that Steve was trying to conceal. He wasn’t sure what he’d intended, but a strangled noise emitted from his throat as he leaned into Steve’s familiar touch, desperately seeking any comfort he could find. With a distant sense of embarrassment he realized that he was making harsh sounds in the back of his throat.

Steve put both of his arms around Bucky and gently tugged him to the ground. Bucky gratefully relished the familiar feeling of Steve’s solidness cocooning him in some distant part of his mind. But he was too far gone to say anything; there was no turning back now.

His body trembled, occasional strong tremors causing his entire frame to shake like a leaf in a hurricane. The flashes of images in his mind left him otherwise frozen in silent terror. He saw the ghastly red, he saw the surgical implements, saw his severed arm lying discarded, saw the blood, so much blood. It soon overtook all of the other images and all he saw was tidal waves of blood.

His heart hammered painfully in his chest, his head felt hot and full. He was distantly aware of the ragged sounds his breaths made. It was worse in his chest. There was intense pain coiling where his heart should be. The invisible vise squeezed harder and then let up before squeezing again. It was like an iron fist was using his heart as a stress ball.

All over his skin crawled; it felt like static covered him. The tingling sensation continued to spread, encompassing his mind. His vision tunneled, the panic continuing to rage inside him. He felt like a ragdoll trapped in a vicious tornado. None of the sensations stuck with him; he couldn’t focus on any of them for long even though they continued relentlessly.

Finally the static in his mind cleared enough that he could attempt to focus his breathing. He fought against the need to suck in sharp, rapid breaths. Instead, he attempted to take measured, slow breaths. Slowly, he became aware of the warm hand rubbing his back comfortingly. Once he was able to focus on that, everything else began to ebb away.

“Steve,” his voice broke.

“I know, Buck. I know,” Steve murmured.


	9. Bad Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve is fed up with SHIELD...

**LOCATION: SHIELD MAXIMUM SECURITY PENITENTIARY**

_Captain_

Once upon a time there were two punk-ass kids who didn’t know what to do with their lives. Nothing about either of them was too remarkable. One was an overly optimistic fool and the other a brooding pessimist. Best friends practically since birth, they were pretty much joined at the hip. Wherever one went, chances were the other would follow. So when one joined the army, the other did, too.

There they were: a couple of stupid kids, fresh outta high school. Together they went through basic training, shipped out, and fought in a live combat zone. Both of them grew up fast. They watched new friends fall around them; two kids from Brooklyn in the middle of the desert scared shitless. But somehow, by some miracle, they remained together through it all.

Then a big-shot military contractor came along. He offered one the chance to be a better man. But the two friends came as a package deal. At first, they turned down the offer, but then one of them got hurt. As one carried his broken friend through the sand, he made a decision that changed everything for them.

Suddenly the two stupid sons-of-bitches were given powers that they never could have imagined. But it came at a much higher cost than they anticipated. As payment for their new abilities they were chased to the ends of the earth: hunted like wild dogs. And every night, in the darkest hours, they would huddle together pathetically and attempt to evade the nightmare that would forever haunt them: Red Skull.

* * *

 

Bucky wouldn’t talk to him. He never had really talked about what happened to him all of those years ago. Almost everything that Steve knew, he’d gleaned from the words whispered during nightmares or his own experience at the hands of those cruel men.

It had been better in the last couple of years. But of course that couldn’t last. Now they weren’t even safe in this prison. The supposed good guys couldn’t protect them. Their worst nightmare had found them again, and surely this time he would have their blood. Red Skull was back.

It seemed like such a waste after all of the years spent running. After all of the close calls and inspired escapes they’d executed over the years, the past had still caught up to them. Once again they were at the mercy of the cruelest man in the world. He was the master of this game. And they were the pawns to be moved at his pleasure.

Probably the worst of it, in Steve’s opinion, was that he was powerless to help Bucky. Even more so than in the past, because now Steve couldn’t even be there to help him through the bad dreams. It ate away at him when he found himself awake in the night. He was sure Bucky wasn’t sleeping any better than him, but even he still drifted off for a few hours each night. The thought that those memories would terrorize Bucky in dreams made Steve feel sick.

The few times that he had seen Bucky in the last couple of days, he could see the wear in the circles under his eyes and the lines in his forehead. It broke his heart to know that he wasn’t there when Bucky really needed him. Fuck this stupid prison! Fuck Fury and Coulson, and all of them that kept him from his best friend!

Today Bucky hadn’t even been at training. No one would tell him where exactly his friend was, but Steve was pretty sure he already knew. He felt the guilt deep in his bones. All of it was his fault. Everything that was wrong could be traced back to Steve and the terrible choice that he’d made so long ago.

* * *

 

“Fuck this!” Steve threw his Eskrima stick on the floor.

Loki and Amora both straightened and lowered their own sticks. Steve could feel the four green eyes on his back as he ran his hand through his hair roughly. The sweat caused his hair to stick at odd angles. He sighed before stomping away from them.

“Captain?” Amora called.

“I’m done. Do whatever you want,” Steve said heading for the doors. He knew he wouldn’t be able to leave until someone came along and reactivated his cuffs and unlocked the doors. Still, he stood with his face pressed against the small window looking out into the corridor. No one passed by, but he was aware of the guards flanking either side of the double doors just outside his vision.

“Tired of being bested, Captain?” Loki’s voice carried over to Steve’s ears.

Steve felt a swell of anger in his gut, “No. You’re not as good as you think.”

That drew a very amused laugh from Loki. The noise grated on Steve’s already frayed nerves, and he gritted his teeth. His fingers clenched and unclenched at his sides as he continued to stand in front of the door. It was true that Loki had beaten him two out of three times today; he was like a fucking ninja. But Steve's heart just wasn’t in the sparring.

Steve spun on his heel and launched himself at Loki. The Asgardian was taken by surprise and didn’t manage to block Steve’s punch. A brief surge of satisfaction raced through Steve’s blood as his target’s head snapped to the side. When Loki turned his head slowly back, his green eyes burned with a cool fire.

“Foolish mortal,” Loki snarled before striking.

Steve reveled in the explosion of pain as his jaw was hit hard by the rock-solid fist. He smirked when he noticed the blood on Loki’s lip. Loki had not dropped his Eskrima stick yet, and he swung it skillfully. Steve danced around to avoid being hit, but Loki’s lightning fast reflexes bested him and he found himself on the ground soon enough.

Stars danced in his vision. He sighed contentedly. The pain felt good; the pain helped him focus. For so long all he had known was pain. Sometimes it was hard to go through life without it. In spite of himself, Steve sometimes craved it in the darkest hours of the night.

“What is troubling you, Captain?” Amora’s melodic voice tickled his ear.

He blinked, not expecting her to be as close as she suddenly was. She batted her eyelashes at him, but even that left him entirely unmoved. A frown crossed over her pretty features as she studied Steve.

“It is the absence of your friend. You are deeply concerned for him,” Amora stated.

Steve’s face heated, in spite of himself. He tried to will the blush away, but it was useless. Amora and Loki could probably see through him as if he was made of glass. There was no point lying about it.

“He’s sick, and he needs me. Fucking SHIELD. This is their fault,” Steve said, raising himself from the ground.

“Ah, yes. SHIELD,” Loki braced his Eskrima stick jauntily against the floor like a cane.

Steve felt the fire inside him burning brighter, “They don’t give a shit about us. Just throw us out to the wolves,” Steve said, “Fuck, they probably hope we die! That would make their lives easier.”

“For once we agree,” Loki replied. Steve watched as he magicked away the split in his thin lip. 

Amora frowned, “They know more than they tell us. I can feel it when the son of Coul and the angry one address us. The spider and the hawk are also troubled by our presence. It bothers them deeply that we were asked to form a team to fight a threat instead of them and their beloved Avengers.”

“Fuck the Avengers,” Steve said.

Loki laughed dryly, and nodded at the cement floor as he dragged the stick around forming a pattern only he could see.

“I’m not gonna lie,” Steve began after a few minutes of silence, “I don’t trust either one of you, but if we’re going to do this we should do it right.”

“What is it you propose, Captain?” Loki asked.

“We stick it to them. Show them that we’re better at doing their jobs than they are,” Steve replied, “I’d love to show those asshole Avengers up.”

Amora and Loki exchanged one of their looks that seemed to contain entire conversations. After a moment they both turned to Steve again. Loki was nodding his head slowly, tapping his stick along with each nod.

“We agree with you, Captain,” Amora said, “Let us, as you said ‘show those asshole Avengers up’.”

For once, Steve flashed a genuine smile at the odd pair of Asgardians. SHIELD wasn’t going to know what hit them. It would serve them right for bringing together four of the world’s most dangerous criminals. They would show them who was boss.

“We can be better than the stupid Avengers,” Steve smiled, “We’re renegades.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! More action in the next chapters!:)


	10. Here We Go Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Renegades meet with Fury and Coulson to learn more about one of their targets.

**LOCATION: SHIELD MAXIMUM SECURITY PENITENTIARY**

_Winter Soldier_

Familiar warmth enveloped him. He smiled against his pillow. Strong arms encircled his waist and he felt the slight sting of teeth on his earlobe. His smile grew but still he refused to turn over or open his eyes.

Fingers began moving against his torso. It took his sleepy mind a second too long to realize what was happening. Suddenly he was squirming uncontrollably as the fingers lightly grazed over his ribs. A burst of laughter erupted from him, and he was helpless to stop it.

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” the voice coaxed, breath tantalizingly warm against his ear.

Bucky finally relented, turning over onto his back. He smiled up at the face smiling down at him. Once more the tricky fingers dusted his sides eliciting very unmanly giggles.

“Stop, stop! I surrender!” Bucky snorted.

“I accept your surrender, Soldier,” the face leaned down towards him, and Bucky watched longingly as those beautiful lips drew nearer.

A loud clatter jarred Bucky from his sleep. He was momentarily disoriented, as he always was waking up in this prison cell. Once again he found himself alone, but he couldn’t say he was in a strange place anymore. Unfortunately, SHIELD’s super-prison was becoming familiar to him, a sensation he was not accustomed to.

He saw the source of the noise was his breakfast tray. Bucky sighed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. A brief smile tugged at the corner of his lips; it had been a long time since he had enjoyed a good dream. But just as suddenly an irrepressible wave of sadness washed over him.

His appetite suddenly vanished Bucky rested his head in his hands. He could practically hear Steve telling him to eat something; food should never be wasted. If it wasn’t for that damned voice in his head Bucky would have probably withered up and died long ago.

Sighing, he walked over and collected the tray. He ate the fruit and yogurt without really tasting it. SHIELD definitely didn’t skimp on their prison food; he could give them that. Bucky stared at the bowl of cereal; it seemed to stare right back at him in a silent challenge.

Lost in thought, Bucky started when the guard returned to take him out of his cell. The past three days Bucky hadn’t left his cell at all. He actually felt a little flare of excitement at the prospect. Blond hair and blue eyes flashed through his mind as he set his hands out.

* * *

 

They didn’t head for the training room like Bucky had expected. Instead, they seemed to be headed for the conference room. He idly wondered what was up. The conference room meant Coulson and Fury, maybe even Barton and Romanoff.

Indeed, Coulson and Fury were standing at the head of the table when Bucky and his guards arrived. Loki, Amora, and Steve were also already in the room. Everyone looked up at him as he entered.

The guard moved to secure Bucky’s chains, but Fury waved him off, “Leave it.”

Bucky could feel eyes on him, and his cheeks heated slightly. He purposefully avoided looking in their direction and turned his attention to Fury and Coulson. The two men waited for the guard to leave the room before addressing the prisoners.

“We have a lead. You’re getting sent out,” Fury stated.

Coulson gestured with some sort of remote and a holographic map appeared in the middle of the table. After pressing another button the map zoomed in on the U.S. Different colors dotted the states in a seemingly random pattern. Bucky didn’t even try to figure out what they meant, and he looked to the SHIELD heads to explain.

“We’ve been monitoring certain energy readings around the globe, and something interesting has popped up in the states,” another button push and Coulson continued, “Coincidentally a very particular signature has popped up in the tristate area.”

Bucky studied the glowing red section on the map which was now zoomed in to the aforementioned tristate region. The lights pulsed in and out, causing slight variations. Overall, though, the reading of whatever it was seemed pretty consistent.

“The Scarlet Witch’s powers have a very particular energy signature. When she was working for the Avengers we were able to study the energy that is emitted when she uses her powers,” Coulson paused, a tiny frown marring his placid features, “The red on the map indicates her energy signature. As you can see, she has been putting out a massive amount of energy in this region.”

“Wait a moment,” Loki was wearing a shit-eating grin, “You mean to tell us that this Scarlet Witch is an _Avenger_?”

“Was,” Fury glared at Loki.

Loki simply shrugged and returned his gaze to the projection above the table. The smile didn’t leave his face, though. It caused him to look rather disturbing, the glow of the red from the map lighting up his face.

“So how come she’s not down here with us?” Steve pressed.

Fury looked like he was about to pop a vein, “Ms. Maximoff is a fugitive from SHIELD.”

“Ah, so you are saying that she knows SHIELD’s tricks and you have been unable to capture her,” Loki said, the hint of his smirk still quirking his lips.

“You want us to go after her?” Amora asked quietly.

Bucky looked across the table to see her biting her full bottom lip. She was staring at the map, but her eyes were flitting unseeingly over the image. Her focus was obviously internal; he could practically see the thoughts rapidly cycling through her brain.

“That’s right,” Fury said. He gestured to Coulson and the map disappeared as the lights came back up.

“You leave in twenty,” Fury said before exiting the room in a flurry of leather and barely contained rage.

Steve broke the silence, “He is just a real ray of sunshine, ya know?”

Loki snickered, and Bucky quirked his own lips in a small smirk. Coulson was suddenly hit with a coughing fit. Bucky met Steve’s eyes and they shared a smile.

“Good to see ya, Buck,” Steve mouthed.

Bucky smiled, and ducked his head. He didn’t want Steve to see him blush.

* * *

 

_Enchantress_

The car ride seemed interminable. It seemed a bit excessive to ride in the back of a windowless vehicle. But nonetheless, she found herself seated on a bench along the side of the vehicle’s back end. Across from her, Winter Soldier and Captain were seated next to each other. They were both silent, lost in their own thoughts.

She glanced to her left and saw Loki with his eyes closed. His porcelain neck was stretched in an elegant arch to rest against the wall of the vehicle. Everything about him was so… _regal_. It was hard to reconcile this version of him with what she knew to be true. A shudder briefly tickled her spine and she tore her gaze away.

Once again her mind drifted to their assignment. She couldn’t escape it for long. They were headed into the lion’s den. SHIELD had provided them with heavily redacted dossiers on Scarlet Witch AKA Wanda Maximoff. The information was of minimal use to her. If she was going to understand this foe she would need to get closer to the witch and her powers.

At least this time she would have Loki for backup. And the other two, to a lesser extent; they had no magical abilities so she wasn’t sure how useful they would actually be against the witch. All the same, it was better this way. What did the humans say? There was strength in numbers.

She could tell when they were nearing the place. The smell and unique current that was synonymous with strong sorcery permeated the air. Loki straightened in his seat next to her, and she knew that he was feeling it, too.

Loki breathed in deeply, “The mind,” he murmured.

“What was that, Sniffles?” Captain leaned forward in his seat.

Ignoring the jibe Loki repeated himself, “This witch’s powers lie most strongly in the mind.”

“How can you tell?” Winter Soldier asked.

“Every sorcerer’s magic comes with a unique signature. There is a particular scent and current that accompanies it. It is rather difficult to explain, but it is something that one can use to determine the type of magic. That is, of course, only if they are properly educated,” Loki explained.

Amora had been so absorbed in her own senses that she hadn’t noticed the vehicle stopping. But the doors were being opened and agents were escorting them out. She held her hands out as the cuffs were removed. A sense of foreboding ate into her stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So shit's about to hit the fan... I have been on roll writing this fic the past few days, so more to come very soon:) As always, thanks for reading!


	11. Danger Zone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Renegades find themselves separated in an abandoned church. What evil lurks in the shadows?

**LOCATION: CLASSIFIED**

_Captain_

If it looked like a trap and smelled like a trap, then it was probably a trap. Wise words. Too bad they hadn’t heeded them.

Steve looked around the dim space, desperately seeking one of his teammates. Hell, he would even be glad to see Loki at this point! It was too quiet in this place, not to mention creepy as hell. Only the occasional creak or skittering noise broke up the silence.

They had come to an abandoned church, guided by Loki and Amora’s supernatural senses. Really, Bucky and Steve were just following like stupid puppies. For all they knew the two sorcerers could be in cahoots with this Scarlet Witch person. It was entirely possible they were walking to their doom. But, nonetheless, they had followed.

When he had seen the building his first reaction had been a simple hell no. Unfortunately, he had been outvoted. He had not appreciated Loki’s condescending look. Not everyone had magical abilities to get them out of a witch fight.

Anyway, the point was that he should have listened to his gut. Because now he was creeping through the upper balcony area of the freaky old church. Alone. In the dark. Fucking hell, he was totally screwed.

It hadn’t taken long for him to lose track of everyone else. The place was deceptively large. Steve was pretty sure that this church was no longer a place of God. All he was feeling in the vast and empty spaces was fear, as if the Devil himself was lurking in the shadows. Or maybe just Loki waiting to be his usual asshole self and scare the shit out of Steve.

He dashed aside another cobweb sheet that hung from the ceiling, in the process knocking his hip into a solid wood corner. A gigantic _thing_ that he eventually determined was the organ loomed over him. For a moment he lingered suspiciously, as if the organ were somehow a sentient creature that was going to attack him with its many pipes.

Shaking his head, Steve continued to forage on through the forgotten relics. As soon as he turned away from the organ, however, he was temporarily blinded by a bright light. He stumbled backwards, crashing into darkness.

* * *

 

“Steven, wake up. It’s time to get ready for school, hon.”

Blearily, Steve blinked his eyes. Sunlight hit him and he squinted to see who was looming in his doorway. The pillow beneath his head crinkled as he turned. His mother gave him a good-natured smile as he examined her.

“Ma?”

“Were you expecting someone else?” his mother teased, “Hurry up and get ready. You can’t be late again, Steven.”

Steve moved as though he were new to his body, and had never used the limbs or appendages before. He walked around the familiar little room in the Brooklyn apartment he shared with his mom. Something felt strange, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. It must have just been a weird dream lingering, or something.

Jogging into the kitchen, Steve was greeted by the smell of toast. He sat down at the Formica table and scarfed his toast and jam before draining the glass of orange juice. Steve jumped out of the chair heading to the front door.

“Not so fast,” his mother caught him by the back of the shirt, “You forgot your pills,” she chided.

Steve grimaced but tossed the proffered pills into his mouth and drowned them with the water his mother gave him.

“Bye Ma!” he called as he flung the door open.

“Have a nice day, hon. Tell James hello!”

“OK!” Steve yelled.

“Oh, and Steven?”

Steve stopped in his tracks, “What, Ma?”

“Don’t forget; it’s all your fault.”

Shock coursed through Steve at his mother’s words, but he was suddenly pulled through the front door. When he turned around he was in the desert. Sand blew around him in the twilight. A knot of dread pulled tight in his stomach as he looked around him.

A transport vehicle lay on its side, shattered glass and bits of metal scattered all around. Smoke still curled out of the gaping windows. An acrid odor permeated the air that he couldn’t quite place. But then it came to him: burnt human hair. He turned around and retched.

Something caught his eye a few feet away. A lump was lying amidst the sand and scrub. It could just be a boulder, but Steve somehow knew that it wasn’t. He rushed to the figure, but it felt as if he were moving through quicksand.

It was Bucky. Kneeling down beside the fallen man, Steve brushed some of the dust off his face. His hand came away smeared with blood. When he reached to turn his friend over, he saw horrified by what he saw.

Bucky’s arm was hanging from the socket. It was barely attached to his shoulder anymore, and Steve felt his stomach turn again. The pale ivory of bone poked out into the night air. Nausea rushed through Steve’s shocked system, but he managed to push it down again. An acute sense of panic quickly rushed in to fill the void.

There was just so much blood. Steve didn’t know if Bucky was even still alive. He reached down, pressing his fingers against Bucky’s throat. “Please, Buck. Please be OK.”

An incredible wave of relief left Steve feeling almost lax, his limbs releasing the tension they’d been clutching at ruthlessly. A pulse was still beating in Bucky’s neck. Steve moved his hand up the side of Bucky’s neck until it was resting against his cheek.

He hadn’t even realized he was crying until a drop splashed down onto Bucky’s face. That was all it took, and suddenly Steve was crying hard. Bucky: he had almost lost him. But it wasn’t too late. A thought bloomed in his head, and he felt a new sense of resolve steeling his nerves.

Suddenly, Bucky’s blue-grey eyes popped open. He stared right into Steve’s soul, and Steve felt a flicker of electricity race down his spine.

“It’s all your fault,” Bucky rasped before closing his eyes again.

* * *

 

_Trickster_

The basement of this human temple was dark and dank. Loki turned his nose up as another rat scrabbled over his boot. He found the entire place to be rather distasteful. Mortals were so fickle they could not even be depended upon to take care of a temple to their lone God.

He came to another doorway. This door was actually shut. Much of the woodwork down here was in poor repair, leaving the majority of the doors hanging open. Loki reached forwards and slowly twisted the knob.

A jolt raced through his palm and he drew his hand away with a curse. Not only was the door locked, but it was bound by magic. He waved away the angry red burn on his hand before casting his own magic to open the locked door.

When he heard the click, Loki smirked. This locking spell had been weak. If it was any indication of the witch’s power then they had nothing to worry about. Loki would be able to beat her with his eyes blindfolded and hands bound. But then he remembered the look of terror on Amora’s face and frowned.

Quietly he pushed his way inside. The room was mostly dark, but there was a bit of light coming from deep within. Surprisingly, the room was rather large. Hesitating for just a moment, Loki looked over his shoulder back into the dim basement behind him. But he shook his head and proceeded into the room.

As soon as he took the first step the door violently swung shut behind him. Loki rolled his eyes and reached for the knob, ready to release another unlocking spell. But the doorknob disintegrated in his hand. Tamping down the panic that threatened to overtake his good sense, Loki quickly worked his magic to open the knob-less door.

It quickly became apparent that this magic was much stronger than the previous spell. Obviously it had all been a ploy. He couldn’t help being impressed; his years in prison must have really softened him. After all, it was not an easy task to trick the Trickster.

* * *

 

_Enchantress_

As she wound through the benches in the main sanctuary of the church, Amora kept her eyes peeled for any movement. She was seemingly alone in the musty space. Even so, she couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes on her. If she paused and focused she could sense the other three members of her team. So even though she hadn’t seen any of them in some time, she wasn’t too worried.

That was not entirely true, though. She desperately wished that someone was at her side. Amora wasn’t sure she was ready to face the Scarlet Witch alone if it came to that. Sure, her powers were up to the challenge, but her mind was perhaps not. It had been far too long since she had truly used the full extent of her powers.

In spite of herself she felt a pang of longing for Loki’s strong, albeit arrogant, presence at her side. Together the two of them could face any threat: magical or otherwise. Maybe they had been in the human prison for many moons, but they were undoubtedly still a force to be reckoned with. Loki wouldn’t let something as simple as lack of practice effect his infallible confidence.

A crash from above in the balcony overlooking the sanctuary tore through unnerving quiet of the church. Something was definitely up there. Amora instantly became aware of the distinct smell of magic. It did not belong to her magic or Loki’s, but it was a scent she had breathed before. The image of red irises glowing in a dim room filled her mind.

* * *

 

_Captain_

Gasping, Steve flailed wildly trying to gain his bearings. He had been in the desert, but now he was surrounded in darkness. Indistinct shapes began to appear to him from the gloom. What fresh hell was he in now?

“Captain? Are you awake? Can you hear me?” a female voice was whispering urgently.

Steve groaned and looked towards the voice. Blonde hair, green eyes: Amora. Everything came back to him in a rush. They had come to this abandoned church tracking Scarlet Witch.

“What happened?” Steve asked.

“It seems that the Scarlet Witch got to you. You were lost in some sort of alternate reality, I suspect.”

Steve took this information in, attempting to process it. Slowly, he began to pull himself up out of the mess of broken chairs that he’d fallen into. Amora extended a slender hand to help him up. He accepted, and she easily pulled him to his feet as if he weighed nothing at all.

“Do you remember anything about what you saw?” Amora studied him.

“Uh, not really,” Steve began, but then a memory struck him, “Oh God, no.”

“What is it, Captain? Did you recall your vision?” Amora reached for his arm.

Steve turned his wild eyes to the sorceress, “Where is he? Oh God, it’s all my fault!”

* * *

 

Winter Soldier

He had been wandering around the corridors of the old building for what felt like hours. There were myriad little rooms; it was like a maze. The oppressive darkness felt like another presence, following him diligently through the labyrinth. It was the only company he had; his teammates had been MIA during his search.

It almost seemed like his mind was playing tricks on him, like the whole place was a big mirage. He constantly found himself stumbling out of a room to find the hallway looking slightly different than he remembered. For a while he had shrugged it off, but now the paranoia didn’t seem so far-fetched.

Another door appeared a few feet ahead of him, and he walked towards it. He briefly rested his ear against the wood, but honestly the doors seemed to be made of extremely dense wood. It was unlikely he would hear anything through the thickness, anyway.

Taking a deep breath, Bucky reached for the knob and entered. He immediately tried to reverse his steps, but the door was gone. Swallowing around the sudden alarm that was rapidly thickening in his throat, Bucky turned back to face the room.

It was fairly small, but well appointed. Once upon a time it had probably been an office. At least that was how it appeared now. The stone floor was covered with a cushy rug in rich tones, dark wood bookshelves flanked the space where the door should have been, and a large desk sat across from Bucky.

The leather chair was turned away from him facing a small blaze in the stone fireplace behind the desk. Bucky waited in dread for the chair to turn around. He had no doubt that someone was seated there. Their presence left a strange charge in the air.

When the chair finally did turn, he backed instinctively away from its occupant. A petite woman, who was nonetheless imposing, sat regally in the seat. She smiled at him, her brown hair framing a pale face. But it was her eyes that he couldn’t look away from. Her irises glowed scarlet.

* * *

 

The crisp white sheets of the bed felt wonderfully cool against his skin. He breathed in deeply reveling in the welcome sensations of fresh smelling sheets, sunlight streaking across his face, and the warm arm draped across his bare torso. A contented sigh escaped his lips in a hum and he closed his eyes with a smile.

Next to him, the other form stirred. He felt the loss of the warm limb from his skin as the figure next to him groaned slowly, “What time is it?”

Bucky laughed and rolled over. Sleep-mussed blond hair poked out over the arm slung across tired eyes. As if feeling Bucky’s eyes on him, Steve lowered his arm and smiled. Bucky flushed at the mischievous twinkle in those blue eyes that he saw every time he closed his eyes.

“Hey,” Steve murmured snaking an arm out to pull Bucky against him.

Bucky laughed as he found himself straddling Steve looking down at the lazy smile on that familiar face. He leaned down slowly and kissed Steve’s lips. It was a chaste kiss, but the warm and pliable lips stirred something in him. Soon he was pressing his tongue against the seam of Steve’s lips, his hands encasing the blond head beneath him.

Familiar butterflies fluttered in his chest as Steve opened up to him. He savored the taste of Steve’s mouth; even first thing in the morning it was still delicious to him. Steve shifted slightly under him, and slowly ran his hands up and down Bucky’s back.

Reluctantly Bucky broke the kiss to get some air. He looked down at Steve’s now kiss-swollen lips and smirked. His right thumb reached up and traced over the full lower lip. Steve smiled playfully at him before darting his tongue out against the pad of Bucky’s thumb.

“I love you,” Bucky breathed, goosebumps erupting at the feel of Steve’s tongue.

Steve stopped, and Bucky pulled back, “What did you say?” Steve cocked an eyebrow at Bucky.

A vine of anxiety twirled up around Bucky’s heart. He could feel his ears heating up, but he pressed the feeling down and looked into Steve’s blue eyes. “I love you,” he repeated quietly.

Abruptly Steve rolled from underneath him, leaving Bucky to awkwardly tumble against the rumpled bedsheets. He looked up at Steve in confusion. But Steve was sneering down at him, a look of disgust marring his beautiful face.

“You’re pathetic,” Steve spat.

Tears pricked at Bucky’s eyes, but he willed them back, he had to swallow a few times against his suddenly dry throat before he croaked, “Steve?”

Steve put his hands on his hips and rolled his eyes, “ _Steve_ ,” he mocked, “ _Steve, I love you. Steve, do you love me, too? Steve why don’t you love me?_ ” A cruel laugh capped his words.

Blood rushed in Bucky’s ears. He couldn’t seem to absorb what Steve was saying. But suddenly he felt small and stupid. A single tear spilled over onto his cheek.

“Oh God. Now you’re gonna fucking _cry_ about it? Give me a break!”

“Why are you saying these things?” Bucky whispered, wiping sloppily at the tears falling fast and hot from his eyes.

“Why do you think?” Steve said incredulously, “I’m saying it because you’re a disgusting, ugly, and stupid parasite. You’ve been sucking the life out of me since we were kids for fuck’s sake! You’re never gonna get a life, are you?”

Bucky was sobbing now, and he couldn’t find any words to respond. Inside his chest, he could feel his heart squeezing painfully; the vines had sprouted thorns and he could hardly breathe. Still, even though Steve was being horrible, Bucky just wanted to grab for him. He was pathetic! All he wanted was to feel Steve’s arms around him, telling him it was going to be OK and that he loved him.

“I mean, how could anyone ever find you attractive? You’re a deformed monster, like something out of a goddamn horror movie! I can’t even stand the fucking sight of you!” Steve continued.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky whispered, though he didn’t know why. He was just desperate to pacify Steve, to make the cruel words stop.

“I wish you’d died in that desert. I should have left you to bleed out, you pathetic freak,” Steve hissed.

The familiar stirrings of panic were rapidly tearing through his system. He hadn’t noticed how ragged and sharp his breathing had become. But suddenly his vision was tunneling, until he couldn’t see anything through the tears and was mercifully swallowed in blackness.


	12. The Red Army

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Renegades continue to struggle against Scarlet Witch's magic.

**LOCATION: CLASSIFIED**

_Enchantress_

The corridors passed in an indefinable blur, stone wall after stone wall. Amora ran alongside the Captain. He had been frantically tearing through the church ever since she had pulled him from the witch’s trance.

Something had been nagging at her brain. There was something about this building that just wasn’t right. All at once she realized that their mission was fruitless. She stopped in her tracks; the Captain took no notice and continued his search.

“Captain,” she called.

The large man drew to a stop a few feet in front of her; he turned to look at her questioningly.

“Stop,” Amora held up a hand.

“I am stopped. What is it?” he asked.

Amora pursed her lips, “We will never locate the Soldier this way."

“What are you talking about?”

Taking a deep breath to maintain her patience Amora continued, “There is magic at work here, a cloaking spell of sorts. If we continue in this manner we will essentially be, as your kind say, running in circles.”

The Captain visibly deflated in front of her. He slowly walked over to a wall and slid down it to sit on the ground.

Amora knelt down in front of him, “I will try to counteract this spell, but it is quite strong.”

He nodded, not meeting her gaze. Amora frowned and studied the human man’s face for a quiet moment. He was not like other humans. There was something in his eyes that she had seen many times in the eyes of many of her own people. This man was a warrior; he had seen things and made noble sacrifices that no one would ever understand. The same thing was visible in the metal armed man’s eyes. Perhaps that was what bound these two mortals so strongly.

She wondered what they had done to end up on SHIELD’s radar, let alone their most wanted list. What could these soldiers have done to deserve incarceration with the likes of her and Loki? Amora held no delusions about the severity of her crimes. But this man… He wasn’t a true villain; his heart was not blackened in the way that hers was. What had happened to him?

“Fuck!” Steve banged his head against his knees.

Amora was pulled from her thoughts back into the present. She moved away from her human teammate to concentrate on summoning her magic. The world fell away as her focus sharpened.

The distinct smell of Scarlet Witch’s magic surrounded her. She could feel the wavering currents holding together the fabric of the illusive spell. Slowly the individual fibers became clearer to her.

Her own magic sang in her blood. She summoned it up, feeling the energy flow through her. Concentrating on unraveling the complex spell around her, Amora felt her magic leaving through her fingertips. It didn’t take long before she could feel her powers untangling Scarlet Witch’s web.

* * *

 

_Trickster_

Loki swiped his palm across his mouth, sparing a brief glance at the red smear that came away. There were more pressing matters at hand, however. The mammoth man whom he had discovered in the locked room was a most formidable opponent. It was quickly becoming apparent that less conventional methods were going to need to be employed if he wanted to leave this room alive.

By some unknown witchcraft the man was able to mimic Loki’s techniques as soon as he employed them. It was rather irritating, and Loki had had enough. Honestly, he didn't know why he hadn't already used his magic. He felt the power tingling in his fingertips itching to be released. His signature smirk quirked his lips as he let go.

* * *

 

_Enchantress_

Amora and the Captain were making their way through the now unclouded hallway. The spell had taken some time and quite a bit of energy to disperse, but she had managed. Now it was simply a matter of locating their missing teammates. Loki could take care of himself; he was ruthless and a vicious fighter. Currently, her main concern was for the Soldier. He seemed unstable, and his Captain was leaking distress from every pore.

A current caused the air ahead of them to shimmer. Automatically, Amora reached out for the determined Captain. He stopped and looked at her questioningly. She simply placed a finger against her lips in the gesture that seemed to mean silence on Midgard. It worked, and he nodded allowing her to take the lead.

There was a door set into the wall next to the area that the current had been. An overwhelming sense of magic seeped from the small cracks around the door. It hit Amora like a knock from Mjolnir. She reeled slightly, the scent overpowering in her nostrils.

The incantation on the door was not nearly as strong as the earlier spell they’d encountered. This one took far less of her own magic to break. She was unsure why the scent of magic was so strong here; it certainly was not due to this spell alone. Unfortunately she didn't have much time to contemplate as she was pushed aside. Too impatient to heed to caution, the Captain burst into the room. 

“Shit! What’s wrong with him?” he turned his wild gaze to Amora.

The figure of the Winter Soldier lay apparently unconscious on the stone floor. Amora could immediately sense that he was affected by the same trance-like spell that she had found the Captain under. But her attention quickly shifted to the figure seated behind the desk.

If not for the red irises, the woman would look like a normal human female. But Amora was not fooled. The scent of magic rolled off of her, a strong perfume. The Scarlet Witch smiled at Amora, her hands steepled in front of her on the desk. Something about the woman’s demeanor set Amora on edge; something was not right.

With a flash of red in the witch’s eyes, the fallen man on the floor gasped. Amora’s gaze snapped to him. When he opened his eyes Amora could see it. But she wasn’t quick enough to warn the other human away.

“Buck!” the Captain’s voice was filled with misplaced relief.

His expression quickly changed as the Soldier rose and pushed the Captain down in one seamless movement. Amora watched in horror as the metal hand clamped around the Captain’s throat. A gurgle of surprise was the only sound from her blond companion. Briefly, his eyes darted to Amora filled with alarm.

Despite her best efforts, Amora couldn’t find any magic at work in the Soldier since the trance had been lifted. Something else was at play here. As he had opened his eyes, Amora had noticed the difference; there was no trace of humanity in them. He looked like a cold, heartless predator, and he had found his prey in the man below him.

A struggle ensued on the floor, but the Captain seemed reluctant to use force. Amora locked eyes with the witch across the room. Her glare was met by a cruel laugh.

“Amora!”

Loki was running down the corridor towards the room. He appeared to have been in a fight, there was blood on his face and some bruises beginning to show. But those marks paled in comparison to the fury in his emerald eyes.

Behind the desk the Scarlet Witch’s expression was suddenly much less smug. She cast an anxious look towards the altercation on the floor before darting her eyes back to the doorway. Amora smiled at the woman’s discomfort. Obviously she had not anticipated Loki showing up to the festivities.

“Soldier!” the witch’s voice rang out clear as a bell.

The Winter Soldier abruptly stopped his scuffling on the floor to turn those eerie eyes upwards. Beneath him, Steve gasped for breath, blood dripping down his chin. With one final blow, Steve’s head rolled to the side, knocked unconscious. The Winter Soldier rose from the floor and strode toward the Scarlet Witch.

Loki reached the room just as the Soldier stepped away from his fallen opponent to go to the Scarlet Witch. He reacted immediately, sending out a wave of emerald towards the woman behind the desk. Before the magic could hit its mark, however, the Winter Soldier had deflected it with his metal arm. Amora cursed inwardly; they had discovered during training that the material of his arm was curiously impervious to their magic.

A flash of red and suddenly Amora felt a distinct coldness fill the air. The witch smiled as she and the Winter Soldier disappeared through a door that had appeared in the back of the room. Just before she absconded, the witch turned towards Amora, “The Red Army rises.”


	13. Haunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Scarlet Witch's magic leaves Amora to face one of her demons.

**LOCATION: CLASSIFIED**

_Enchantress_

Such a long time ago they had fallen down. It was hard to even remember those days anymore. They felt like distant dreams; not anything that could possibly be real. Nonetheless, she found herself reliving those long ago days.

It wasn’t necessarily that she regretted it; everything that had happened had been inevitable. From the first moment that she had laid eyes on the two princes of Asgard, her destiny had been set. They would lead her to ruin. And yet, she had willingly jumped into the void.

* * *

 

The first time she had met Loki and Thor, she had fallen in love. The handsome blond prince was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. He was strong and noble. She could see that he had a heart of gold, and at that time her heart was not yet the black wasteland it had become. His brother, on the other hand, was a slippery shadow. It was difficult to get a read on him, and she instinctively did not trust him. Yet their shared love of sorcery drew them together.

Everything had started to go downhill when Thor had been banished to Midgard. One could argue that it had begun earlier than that, that it had started as soon as she’d first laid eyes on the brothers. However, Thor’s banishment was a definite catalyst. She had been furious when Thor fell for that simple mortal woman. That had led to her first ill-advised alliance with the Trickster.

And what an ill-advised alliance it had been. Even now, it still tied them together. There would be no escaping him; he would forever be a part of her and she him. Together they had schemed and plotted both hungry for vengeance against the man they loved. Her as a woman scorned, and Loki as a brother abandoned.

As they sat side by side on their stolen thrones, Amora’s heart slowly darkened. With each new day, she grew a little bitterer. The relationship had been toxic from the beginning. The fuel of resentment was always sure to lead to regret. And both of them felt so much resentment. Loki was burned and rejected by his own family. Amora was spurned by the object of her affections.

They had become ugly creatures at each other’s sides. In many ways, Thor had been Loki’s conscience. With him gone, Loki spiraled. Amora was right there beside Loki, though, and together they had fallen. Together they had truly become the villains. Perhaps Loki had always been the villain, but Amora didn’t really believe that. Although she hadn’t understood the reason behind his shift back then, she knew well enough now. When your entire existence is proven false you can react in one of two ways; Loki chose to become the villain.

There had been moments when they had been more than just two people with a common enemy. Perhaps they had even loved each other in their own way. She had felt something for him. A certain passion existed in their anger. But any tender feelings were increasingly difficult to recall. Sometimes they would share a certain look, and she would forget that it was all a ruse, an elaborate scheme. Although, she could not be sure that he had ever shared those feelings. She had been naïve back then, despite all her power and hate.

Mostly they had just hurt one another. Slowly, they chipped away at all of the good pieces in each other until it was all blackness and resentment. And just like that, they became one another’s ghosts. They would haunt each other always.

They had both had their dreams briefly, well Loki had his. Amora hadn’t really desired the crown if Thor wasn’t the king. Nonetheless, she wore it seated beside Loki on the thrones of the golden realm. Secretly she believed it had done something to her, changed her irrevocably in a sinister way. It hadn’t taken her long to develop an appetite for power.

So they had sat together, power hungry and angry at the world. It had lasted for such a brief time, but it had been good in the wickedest way. Then everything had fallen apart; their house of cards had collapsed on them. Smoke and mirrors could only keep secrets hidden for so long.

What had happened next still burned inside her. Showing his true colors, Loki abandoned her. He had let go and tumbled down into the abyss. It was in that moment that she had known; somewhere along the line she had come to care deeply for the lost boy with the raven hair. But it didn’t matter, because in the end he had left her alone to pick up the pieces of the mess they had made.

* * *

 

Amora drew in a sharp breath, the rush of memories receding. The sight was no less shocking than it had been the first time she had witnessed it. Although this time, the beast had its crimson eyes, filled with malicious intent, fixed on her. Those eyes held such betrayal in them. Amora backed away from him instinctively.

His eyes were slightly unfocused, and she could tell that the Scarlet Witch had used her powers to place his mind in an alternate reality. Unfortunately, she was unable to stop him. Raw power radiated from the frosty flesh. She could feel his magic made even stronger in his true form. Somehow she needed to get herself and the Captain out of the small room so that she could strategize. Loki was difficult to best in his Aesir form, but in his natural Jötun form his powers were unknown to her.

A line of ideas that she immediately rejected marched through her thoughts before she grabbed at one. With a burst of gold, a dozen Aesir Lokis appeared behind the Frost Giant holding their spears aloft and replicating that smirk that so often adorned her Loki’s face.

By some miracle her impulsive attempt at distraction seemed to work. Frost Giant Loki turned on the fake Loki army, and ice began to shoot through the mirages. Working as quickly as she could, Amora gripped the fallen Captain and teleported them away.

* * *

 

_Trickster_

It was his worst nightmare come to fruition. Asgard had found him out, and now they had sent their army to spill his impure blood. The furs covering his opponents drastically differed from Loki’s own scarce clothing. He was barely clothed in nearly shredded scraps of fabric. No matter, he could not even feel the cold that was turning his enemy’s golden flesh pink.

One of the men lunged at him, and Loki felt a dagger of ice forming in his hand. He used the sharp instrument to stab the Aesir warrior, blood seeping from the man’s neck. It didn’t take him long after that to eliminate the remaining men using his ice daggers or simply freezing them where they stood.

But as soon as the last man’s icy sarcophagus shattered upon impact from one of Loki’s daggers, the scene morphed. Horror froze his veins as he looked down at the body below him. The ice had shattered to reveal a corpse hidden within. Blonde hair fanned out over the icy ground, green eyes forever shuttered as blood slowly seeped into the snow. He closed his eyes, a broken howl echoing through the frozen wastelands around him.

He stared down at the fallen figure; it was so familiar to him. Her smile haunted him every night when he fell asleep. Rolling blonde hair falling down her back, sparkling green eyes that already knew your secrets before you even spoke, and so much raw power. Every detail about her was permanently etched into his brain. She was beautiful and terrible and he both loved and hated her. She was just another one of his many victims, led astray by his silver tongue. Still it hurt to remember the way that she had once smiled. The way that emerald brought out the striking color of her eyes, the way that she had looked seated on the throne, the way it had felt when she had slipped that ring on his finger.

So it was only fitting that he would destroy her once and for all. Even her blood was beautiful as it saturated the snow below. Once upon a time he had allowed himself to believe that it could be real; that he could have something good in his life. He should have known better. A monster like him didn’t deserve happiness.

* * *

 

_Captain_

Ice crystals were forming on the inside of the sanctuary door. He alternately stood up and sat back down on one of the church’s pews. After all, it seemed fairly obvious that Loki was going to get in. Steve sure as hell didn’t stand a chance against the guy if what Amora said was true.

She had explained in clipped tones that Loki was under the Scarlet Witch’s trance and perceiving a different reality than what was actually around him. Unlike when Steve had been under the trance, Loki had not fallen unconscious. It seemed that the spell had reacted differently with his powers. Amora had informed him that he would be no match for Loki’s magic, and he should let her deal with it.

When the door finally burst open, as he’d known was inevitable, he felt his eyes widen and his jaw drop. The creature in the doorway was dimly illuminated, and it was unlike anything Steve had ever seen. Inky black hair fell against its shoulders, and it wore Loki’s clothes, but aside from that it was unlike any creature Steve had ever encountered.

It was horrifying and strangely beautiful at the same time. Steve stared, mesmerized by the alien advancing towards Amora. Blue skin, with ridges interspersed along it, covered its face and peeked out from its clothing. But its eyes were the truly haunting feature; they were entirely blood red.

Ice shot from the thing, _Loki’s_ , hands and Amora sent a burst of golden light to melt it. Steve watched for a few moments as the two exchanged volleys; Loki throwing ice, in various shapes, and Amora counteracting it with her own powers. It was like the most exciting game of tennis that he’d ever seen.

She seemed to be attempting to talk to the creature. It didn’t look as if he was listening, though. The battle continued to rage on, and Steve worried that Amora wasn’t going to be able to last. It seemed like things were going more in Loki’s favor.

A spike of alarm raced through him at the sound of Amora’s pained cry. He spun back towards the fight to see her clutching at her torso where a dagger of ice was protruding. Red began to seep out of the wound. She winced, but didn’t have time to dwell as Loki launched another attack. Steve stood frozen, unsure what to do. Amora had told him to stay out of her way, that he wouldn’t be able to do anything helpful against Loki in this body.

Amora briefly looked over her shoulder. The moment of inattention cost her, as another ice dagger implanted itself in her chest. She let out an agonized sound. Amora fell to her knees, and Steve watched with horror as Loki moved in for the kill. But he hesitated as he got closer.

Amora was once again speaking to him, and Steve edged closer, focusing on her voice. The words were completely unfamiliar to him. Apparently she was speaking a different language. Whatever it was, it seemed to be breaking through the creature’s barriers. He appeared to be struggling internally.

“ _Komme tilbake mine ravn_ ,” a softness that Steve had never heard before colored Amora’s words.

He watched in fascination as the creature froze in place. Something passed between the two of them. Steve felt like an intruder, seeing the intimacy in Amora’s expression. The blue creature froze, but Steve could sense the moment that Loki broke free.

With an anguished cry, the blue faded from his skin, and when he opened his eyes it was once again Loki. His skin was the familiar ivory, his eyes the same unreadable emerald. Steve felt an immense sense of relief as he watched Loki stumble forward bracing his hands against his thighs and breathing hard.

Steve continued to be fascinated by the two sorcerers. When Loki had caught his breath he dropped immediately to Amora’s side. With a tenderness that Steve never would have expected out of him, Loki took Amora’s hand from her bleeding chest. He waved his hand over the wound in her chest, and it disappeared in a haze of emerald. Then he repeated the process on her stomach.

Steve swallowed hard as he watched their eyes meet once again. It was an entirely new side to both of them. Loki had never been this gentle, ever. Quite frankly, Steve hadn’t thought he had it in him. And Amora was a fierce woman who insisted on fighting her own battles; he never would have expected to see such vulnerability from her. But in that moment as the two stared at each other, Steve could almost feel the history and the pain passing between them. It was too much for him, and he spun away feeling his heart break a little bit more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I thought it was time for a little more Loki and Amora:) I picture them as kind of a Scarlett O'Hara/Rhett Butler situation.  
> Amora says 'Come back my raven'  
> Anyway, thanks for kudos and comments, they keep me motivated!


	14. The Things We Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Renegades return to SHIELD Pen, minus one member.

**LOCATION: SHIELD MAXIMUM SECURITY PENITENTIARY**

_Trickster_

Returned to SHIELD’s familiar prison walls, Loki was in a foul mood. He had been purposefully difficult the entire journey. He was tired of putting up with the bumbling human SHIELD guards and the mortal prison experience as a whole. It was all beginning to feel unbearably claustrophobic.

The return drive had been tense, the air polluted with unspoken words and thinly veiled animosity. Amora had been silent the entire ride. Of course, the Captain had not said anything, either. At least, not out loud; his looks spoke a different language.

That scene from inside the humans' temple had been replaying in his head.  For a moment the old Enchantress had risen like a phoenix, burning brightly against the ashes.  It had taken him back to Asgard, and those days of their reign.  One moment from that nightmare scene was especially persistent in his memories.  ' _Komme tilbake mine ravn'._ She had not spoken to him in that voice, or used that name in so long, and he ached to hear it again and again.

He now found himself seated in the conference room they had met in not even a full day earlier. Amora and the Captain were seated at the table, lost in their own worlds. It seemed that they were waiting on Fury and Coulson. As if in answer to his thoughts, the two men strode into the room.

The son of Coul seemed as placid as ever, but Fury looked disturbingly calm. It was unnerving; anger was a much more suitable look for him. Both men made their way to their usual spots at the head of the conference table. This time, however, Fury took the seat at the head of the table with Coulson sitting at his right hand. Normally the two mortals stood throughout their meetings.

There was an unbalanced feel to the room, a strange sort of tension. It felt as if the slightest movement would ignite the inevitable inferno that the air seemed pregnant with. Loki waited rigidly for the unavoidable break and consequent explosion.

Silence continued, and Loki surveyed the room. The Captain held his attention. Although he hadn’t previously noticed it, he was now able to see the man more clearly in the bright lighting of the room. His skin was paler than normal; he actually looked rather ill. Against the table, Loki noticed, that the mortal’s fingers were drumming almost compulsively. Once again, he found himself nonplussed by the mortal’s reactions to earlier events. Wouldn’t it make more sense for him to ignore his emotions, whatever they might be, in favor of strategizing with his warrior’s mind?

Coulson cleared his throat, which seemed to snap the Captain out of his trance. He turned his blue eyes in the direction of the two SHIELD agents. In contrast to the rest of him, the blond man’s eyes glinted like cold stone. None of the emotion seeping out of the rest of him was visible in his gaze.

“It was a set-up. You sent us in there, and it was a trap,” the Captain said quietly.

Loki had heard that particular tone before; the carefully dictated words and purposefully even cadence betrayed the speaker’s true state. He had spoken in those cold tones many times himself. It was slightly unnerving to hear it coming from the usually flippant mortal man. But the obvious ache he felt was discernible in the undercurrents of his words.

“Events took an… unfortunate turn,” Coulson began.

“An _unfortunate turn_?” the Captain’s jaw was clenching and unclenching reflexively.

Tension crackled almost audibly in the air between them. To his credit, the SHIELD agent didn’t look away from the Captain’s unforgiving stare. Loki was reminded of the courage of this man whom he had fought so long ago. After a moment, Coulson’s eyes left the Captain’s and swept over the rest of them.

Coulson continued to speak as if he’d never been interrupted, “Our agents on the ground have picked up chatter about the Red Army that Scarlet Witch referenced. Thanks to your work, we now know who the main players are in that organization. It seems that Red Skull is at the helm being assisted by Scarlet Witch and Taskmaster. We are still working on the Thor doppelganger that you saw a few weeks back.”

“What. About. Bucky,” the Captain’s voice was flat, but distinctly menacing.

Fury glared at the Captain, “Your _boyfriend_ has disappeared off our radar.”

Loki noticed the way that the Captain’s eyes bulged and throat contracted at Fury’s use of the word boyfriend. He also did not miss the accusation barely disguised in the director’s statement. He found the whole exchange to be rather curious. The undercurrents of the words were palpable; it was obvious there was more being said then just the audible words.

“How did you-” the Captain seemed to stumble over his words.

“Did you really think we weren’t monitoring you?” Fury replied, “We can hear everything you say through the comms implanted in all of you.” A choked sound escaped the Captain’s throat as he stared at the table. Loki studied the Captain’s lowered eyes. He was surprised by the turmoil he saw there. Inside his blue eyes the Captain’s internal war was revealed. Loki felt suddenly uncomfortable as he was hit by the powerful cocktail of emotions he saw within the other man’s eyes. He realized that this was one of those secrets that had been kept closest to the heart, hidden in the darkest places and deepest shadows.

* * *

 

The training room felt oddly empty. The three of them reclined listlessly around the space. Even though only one of their number was absent, it seemed as if each of them had come back a little bit less somehow. A heavy silence filled the air, so many words hidden just beneath the surface. It was making his skin itch.

Their debriefing with Fury and Coulson had ended abruptly when the Captain had shut down, refusing to say another word. By some sense of loyalty he could not possibly explain, both Amora and the Captain had remained silent about his episode. He was grateful and incredibly relieved, which left him feeling vexed. There was nothing he hated more than feeling indebted to someone.

What was really troubling him, was the change in the dynamics between himself and the two other remaining Renegades, as the Captain had dubbed them. Suddenly he found himself on uncertain footing. For some unfathomable reason Amora was not divulging the Frost Giant incident. He couldn’t possibly imagine why; SHIELD would likely eat that piece of information up like hungry dogs. Loki had already decided that the Captain was a much more complicated man than he had originally thought. He was unsure what the Captain’s motives were, but he believed that it had to do with his loyalties to his team over SHIELD.

When Loki glanced across the floor at Amora, she briefly caught his gaze before physically turning away from him. It hurt, even though he wished it did not. Even after all this time, that impossible woman still had a hold over him. He hated that she was so disgusted by his heritage. But most of all he hated that he cared about her. It was his greatest weakness, and he would do anything to rid himself of it. No matter what he had tried in the past, though, nothing had erased the feelings.

All those years ago, he had made a terrible decision. A miscalculation that had essentially cost him everything he had. At the time, when Amora had gotten her ill-advised revenge, he had been beyond furious. That rage had stuck with him for a long time. But somewhere along the way, he realized, he had let it go. Nothing really made sense to him anymore.

The look in the blond man’s eyes was almost unbearable. He looked so utterly destroyed that it made Loki uncomfortable. It was disconcerting to see the Captain, who had proven to be a strong fighter, showing such blatant and unabashed emotion. Apparently Loki had underestimated the bond between the two mortals. If Fury’s earlier words and the Captain’s subsequent reaction were any indication, then it appeared that the two were mates.

The blond man ran his palm roughly over his face, staring at the floor in anguish. Loki could see the thoughts flashing through his blue eyes. He hated himself for knowing exactly how the mortal man was feeling. One look at Amora, and he could feel the same things only slightly colored by time passed.

“Goddammit!” the Captain suddenly exploded.

“We will recover him, Captain,” Loki said, although he could not possibly explain why.

He was unprepared for the vitriol in the Captain’s eyes when he spun towards Loki’s voice. It seemed as if he briefly wrestled over what words to say, and Loki saw him suppress his first choice.

“Yeah? And just how the hell are we gonna do that?” his eyes blazed as he stared at Loki.

No response came to him as Loki met the violent scrutiny. He looked to Amora, hoping she would have some way to diffuse the situation. Amora simply looked at the two men with one of her elegant eyebrows slightly raised.

A mirthless laugh seeped from the blond man’s mouth, “Do you even know what it’s like to care about someone? Someone other than yourself, I mean. Do you have any idea what it feels like when you care more about that person than you do about yourself?” he huffed out a breath.

Loki was quiet for a moment before responding, “Contrary to what most would believe, Captain, I do know what you speak of. I have felt as you do, but I have chosen to harden my heart against those weaknesses. They never served me well,” his eyes briefly met Amora’s before he turned away.

* * *

 

_Winter Soldier_

Snatches of conversation, flashes of light, indistinct images drifted lazily through his head. He couldn’t quite seem to wake up. But that was OK, because he couldn’t quite seem to care. It was nice here in this in-between world. It was peaceful.

A sharp stinging burned his cheek and his eyes flew open. Fuzziness in his brain kept him from fully focusing as he blinked and squinted against his sudden wakefulness. When finally he could focus, he realized he had absolutely no idea where he was. It was dim in this room. The air smelled both dusty and clean at the same time. There was also a tinge of something metallic in the air. But none of those things revealed his location.

“He is awake, Master,” a breathy female voice said.

Lazily he traced his eyes to the place where the voice had originated. For a moment he just stared at the brunette woman, unable to place her. Someone was moving behind him, coming closer. He tried to turn around, but realized that he was strapped in place. A jolt of alarm shot through his system, but he was still too unfocused to dwell on it.

“Ah, Winter Soldier. What a pleasure it is to see you once again. I spent many years looking for you and your partner, you know.”

His blood froze, and a violent shudder wracked his insides. That voice; it couldn’t be. But he knew that it was. The red face came around the chair into his vision, confirming his worst fear. He instantly felt sick, sweat pricking his skin.

He tried to speak, although he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. But he quickly became aware that he was also muzzled; some strange contraption covering the lower half of his face. A twisted smile split the horrible face staring down at him.

“Did you miss me?” Red Skull’s beady eyes glinted in the low lighting.


	15. The Devil's Trap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What does Red Skull want with Bucky?

**LOCATION: CLASSIFIED**

_Winter Soldier_

“We have so much to talk about, Sergeant Barnes.”

Bucky pulled against his restraints fruitlessly. This man, this monster, had made him what he was; of course he would know how to contain him. A feeling of overwhelming defeat was gnawing at the corners of his consciousness. But there was a deep voice in his head telling him that he was stronger than this and not to give up. And dammit, he couldn’t ever ignore that voice.

“Remove the muzzle, I want to hear what our guest has to say,” Red Skull turned to the brunette whom Bucky now remembered was Scarlet Witch.

In a flash the muzzle was gone, and Bucky automatically took a deep breath.

“We have so much to show you, Soldier. You have missed many things in your absence. But, that’s no matter now,” Red Skull sighed, sounding almost wistful.

“What do you want?” Bucky croaked.

“Ah, now that is the question, isn’t it?” Red Skull gazed off at some unseen point in the distance before focusing back on his captive, “You were always meant to be a part of my army. It was supposed to be the Captain and his Winter Soldier as my proxies, leading the Red Army to victory,” his gaze darkened before he continued, “But then you and your, shall we say spirited, Captain escaped before I was finished preparing you. Well, you were mostly finished, but Steven was not,” he frowned, again lost in some distant memory.

“What did you do to me?” Bucky whispered. It was more than just a simple question. This was what he thought about every night when sleep eluded him.

“I made you better, just like I promised I would. Well, actually that was the promise I made to Steven. You were just a superfluous expense. None of this was ever about you, but you two were always so inseparable.

“When Steven came to me, hobbling along covered in your blood…” he trailed off for a moment before smiling sickly at Bucky, “I couldn’t very well say no, now could I? A nearly-dead soldier with his arm hanging on by a tendon? I couldn’t refuse to help, especially after Steven carried you so far in order to get my help. If I had said no what kind of person would that have made me?”

“You’re not a person.”

Red Skull ignored the jab, “You didn’t even have the decency to die like a proper hero.

“Without Steven you would still be nothing, but I think you already know that,” he glanced at Scarlet Witch, who smiled, “I graciously agreed to fix you for him. Steven was a true hero, willing to do whatever it took to save a life,” Red Skull shook his head, “He offered himself for you. He loved you so much. Tell me, does he still?”

Bucky blanched at the words. He couldn’t make his voice function. His brain lagged, unable to conjure up a suitable comeback. Red Skull’s words were striking Bucky all the way down to the bone. An awful memory of Steve berating him, and telling him that he wished Bucky had died popped up unbidden. It slithered through Bucky until it settled on his chest, weighing down his heart like an albatross.

Red Skull smirked, misreading Bucky’s silence, “Of course he does. And you obviously still worship the ground he walks on, as you should,” there was a pause, “Tell me, how has your arm worked for you? From the stories that have followed your exploits, I would say it has served you rather well, hasn’t it?

“A soldier such as you will make a most valuable addition to my army. Naturally I would have preferred the Captain, but you will have to do. We had time to make some additional _improvements_ to you, which we were unable to do for the Captain.”

“I won’t work for you,” Bucky said. Red Skull paused for a moment, focusing his unnerving dead eyes on Bucky, “Oh, I think you will. Unless of course you would like to sentence your precious Steven to die.”

Bucky felt fear icing over his blood, but he scoffed, “You couldn’t kill him.”

“A few months ago, that might have been true. However, the game has changed since then. Thanks to the lovely Ms. Maximoff here, I have a wealth of information from SHIELD that I can use for my personal gains. For example, I have access to the SHIELD chips in your brains. It would simply take a few clicks on a keyboard and… Kaboom!” Red Skull waved in a gesture that disturbingly resembled jazz hands.

“Now, naturally I would prefer to have you accept my proposal of your own accord. However, I foresaw this response from you. Although, it is still disappointing,” he clucked his tongue, “Anyway, if you refuse to work with me, I will simply reactivate the failsafe we had installed in your arm all of those years ago. You and the Captain managed to stay far enough away from us that we couldn’t lock into your mainframe and activate you. Until last night, that is.

“Now, you can either keep your mind or be a mindless slave. It doesn’t much matter to me. Either way you will be an effective soldier. I just think that it would be much more fun if you were self-aware while you served in my Red Army. That way you won’t forget your motivation, and if you should fail me…” he paused to smile maliciously, “Well, then you’ll be perfectly cognizant when I blow your boyfriend to bits in front of you.”

* * *

 

“Rise and shine, Soldier! It is time to begin your initiation!” Red Skull’s voice pulled Bucky from his restless dreams.

Clammy sweat clung to his body. The fragments of his nightmare hung in a haze around his mind. Images of his metal hand wrapped around Steve’s neck bogged him down. A sick feeling snaked through his body.

With effort, he forced himself to look up. He recoiled in surprise when he saw the figure accompanying Red Skull. It was the black-eyed man that had been attacking Loki. His metal fist tensed automatically at the sight of the inhumanly strong creature.

Red Skull chuckled as the man advanced to unbuckle Bucky’s restraints. “Don’t worry; you’ll have plenty of time to become reacquainted later.”

Bucky followed the two men cautiously, the Thor imposter keeping a firm hand on Bucky’s flesh bicep. They trailed through the labyrinthine complex until they came to a dim room. Around the perimeter of the room there were several cylinders that stretched from floor to ceiling. What appeared to be frost spread in intricate patterns across the glass-like material of the cylinders.

“Here is where the true magic happens,” Red Skull gestured widely to the room around them, “My lieutenant and I shall leave you to meet your fellow soldiers.”

Bucky’s appraising eyes swept over the space. It was relatively small, mostly cement, and essentially empty aside from the strange tubes on one wall.

A decompressing sound echoed as heavy fog began to pour out of the tubes, and Bucky tensed ready to defend himself. When the smoke cleared, he was momentarily shocked. Across from him, the tubes were now empty and the Avengers stood primed for a fight. Seven devils stared him down with their fathomless eyes.

 


	16. Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki reminisces and struggles internally with unfamiliar feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two shorter chapters today... Hope you enjoy!:)

**LOCATION: SHIELD MAXIMUM SECURITY PENITENTIARY**

_Trickster_

Loki had requested one of the robots that they had fought in their early training sessions. Somewhat to his surprise, his request had been approved. It felt obscenely good to take all of his frustrations out on the automated version of Thor. He had not enjoyed a sparring session as good as this one in some time now.

He would never in a million years admit it aloud, but sometimes he missed his quasi brother. They had been very close in their youth, after all. Thor had been Loki’s only friend; the strange pale and skinny boy not being very popular with his peers. As they had grown older, a distance had gradually opened up between them. It was only after the disaster with the Frost Giants and Thor’s subsequent banishment that things had truly deteriorated between the two, though. During that tumultuous time Loki had learned his true heritage, and thus the lie of his entire life on Asgard. Loki was absolutely loath to admit how much he had needed his brother then. Alas, some fences could never be mended.

So, on the verge of a complete breakdown, he had latched onto Amora. Together they had exacerbated one another’s problems, although at the time it had seemed just the opposite. Certainly, he had gotten what he thought that he wanted. He had married the most beautiful and interesting woman he had ever known and made her his queen. Together they had ruled over the golden realm. On the surface, everything was exactly how Loki had wanted it.

But it had not been real. It had merely been an ill-conceived illusion. Amora had not actually loved him. She had married him because he offered her a chance at revenge, and her thirst to get back at Thor had driven her a bit mad. It had been a terrible mistake; that was something that he could never possibly emphasize enough. He should have known better, but he was a masochist and had thought to add to his never ending pain and suffering by tricking the woman he had long pined after into marriage. After all, she never would have married him if she had known what a monster he truly was.

There had been a brief respite during their reign, when Loki had allowed himself to believe the fantasy that he had created. He had let himself honestly think that Amora had fallen in love with him, that he had tamed the untamable Enchantress. The way that she had smiled at him sometimes still made him ache. Her eyes had shined as if the two of them knew a secret, the knowledge of which elevated them above all others. And when she had called him ‘mine ravn’, he had never felt so complete, so fulfilled.

Things had fallen apart quickly, though. He was, after all, the god of chaos. Whatever he laid his hands on was bound to spiral into unbridled madness. It had been a rather spectacular collapse; Loki had fallen so far, so fast. But he had always known that this was the way it would go for him. Somewhere deep inside he had always known that he was different, that he was walking around living a lie and wearing a skin that did not truly belong to him. But, oh how he wished it could have lasted.

When Thor had returned, the ultimate rejection had seemed inevitable. How could his brother possibly choose that human woman over Amora? He could not bear to wait around for Amora to leave him, to spurn him. By that point, Loki was already so broken. To let Amora sink the last blow was simply more than he could take. He was just so tired. Letting go and falling into the abyss, he had felt so free. For a moment, it had been beautiful. But not even that respite could be allowed for the dark prince: the Jötun in Asgardian’s clothing.

He had fallen indefinitely through infinite time and space, madness slowly creeping in and infecting his mind. At some point, it had all simply stopped; he found himself no longer plummeting through the cosmos. Instead, he found himself in a dark and malevolent realm that seemed suspended in nothingness.

There was little that Loki remembered about that time. All of his recollections were blurred and fragmented. It was no surprise, considering the mental state he had been in at that point. But something terrible had happened to him there. He just was never entirely sure what it was.

Abruptly, Loki’s memories picked up once more in the dead of night back on Asgard. He hadn’t even questioned any of it. There had been a mission in his head, and he had followed it fervently. Loki knew that he was on Asgard to retrieve his beautiful other half: Amora.

And so he had. She had willingly accompanied him to Midgard. Looking back on it now, he should have known better. But his mind was clouded, his thoughts frenzied. He could only concentrate on the dark whispers from the spear, spurring him onward in his quest. There had only been one goal in his mind: Midgard. With the spear in his possession and Amora at his side, he had set off to conquer a realm to rule over with his queen.

Although the spear had certainly intensified things, Loki was not a victim. He was not blameless, nor did he hold any illusions of being such. It had been his desire to stomp on the weak humans, to have them kneel at his feet. Their lives mattered very little to him. The only feeling that he associated with humans was hatred and betrayal. In some abstract sense, he blamed Midgardians for taking his brother from him. Not once did he hesitate to take a human life, or use the ant-like creatures for his own gain.

He had, obviously, not been successful in his mission. The mania in his mind had clouded his judgment. Amora had been quietly working against him the entire time, and he had not taken the time to notice her scheming. If he had truly wanted to conquer Midgard, he would have needed to murder Amora. And the thought that scared him the most, that truly showed him what a monster he had become, was that if the spear had told him to then he gladly would have. That knowledge still haunted him.

Every day and every night, he now lived with the constant worry that Thanos would come for her. She had, after all, been the reason that his plot was foiled. At first, he hadn’t cared either way. He had seen the hatred in her eyes when she looked at him, and he childishly hated her in return. But that had only lasted for so long; it had only ever been superficial anyway. Soon enough, the incessant worry that he had doomed Amora ate away at him almost constantly.

Deep down, he was glad that Amora had stopped him. He had become the savage creature that he so deeply feared. Life meant nothing to him, and he did not think twice before ending one. Amora was not to blame for what had happened. Loki would not willingly let her return to Asgard, though. She was not safe there. Truthfully, she was not safe anywhere thanks to Loki’s selfishness, but he would rather be able to keep an eye on her. He felt a miniscule bit of comfort at the idea that she was near him and not off in some faraway realm where he would stand absolutely no chance of protecting her.

With the Winter Soldier missing, presumably taken by this Red Skull character that the Captain had mentioned previously, Loki’s fear had intensified. Thanos was his Red Skull and Amora his Winter Soldier. And if SHIELD was unable to protect one mortal who they were constantly tracking, then there was no way they would be capable of protecting Amora. Especially not if the all-powerful being Thanos were to come for her. She would be doomed; they all would be.

Perhaps this could explain his uncharacteristic desire to recover the Winter Soldier. For some reason, he was determined to find the broody human with the metal appendage. This urge was so unlike him, and he was feeling particularly unsettled. He tried to tell himself that he was simply looking to cross out his debt to the Captain for keeping his secret. But, there was something more to it, and that terrified the Trickster. His carefully erected house of cards was crumbling around him.


	17. Through the Rifle's Scope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winter Soldier strikes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter. Should be posting more soon!

**LOCATION: CLASSIFIED**

_Winter Soldier_

This was familiar to him; this felt right. He could remember other instances where he had lain in wait with his rifle. The world made more sense to him when viewed through a rifle’s scope. There was nothing to be dissected, no feelings beyond the basest needs. No one could make him feel small when he had his finger on the trigger.

He had been stretched out on this rooftop for three hours. It had given him plenty of time to become completely familiar with his surroundings. Any variables in the environment below him had already been noted and factored into his ideal shot. All that was left now was for the target to show up. A familiar flicker of anticipation rolled through his body. It shouldn’t be much longer now.

His already alert senses spiked as the SUV screeched onto the nearly empty street below his perch. The black paint was already riddled with bullet holes, so he knew without a doubt that it was his target. Although he couldn’t see the man behind the wheel through the tinted glass, he could picture him perfectly. He was pretty sure that they had met before; there was a deep dislike that he had felt when the General had shown him the photo.

A deep breath in, and then he was exhaling as he released the trigger. A single bullet arced soundlessly down towards its target. It was a beautiful sight, so precise. He stared silently as the driver apparently lost control of the vehicle. Rubber and metal screaming and crumpling filled the otherwise silent and still air. One roll, two rolls, three, and then there was stillness. Smoke curled around the wreckage as flames licked along the metal, and the Soldier inhaled deeply savoring the scent of his success.

Below him another SUV came to a halt. Within a minute he was gone from the rooftop and seated on the cushy leather of the getaway vehicle. There would be absolutely no trace of him when SHIELD came sniffing around. Nothing would give away the true story of what had happened. SHIELD would be in shambles, reeling from this loss. The Red Army would rise to fill the void.

War was coming.

* * *

 

_Captain_

Steve stood on the rooftop, looking down at the chaos below him. SHIELD agents were swarming around the charred carcass of an SUV. Ants on the ground, pieces from a board game; none of it was real from up here. The heady scent of fire and blood permeated the air on the street. But up here on this roof, Steve saw it all through a different lens. He saw it the way that the sniper would have seen it, the way Bucky would have seen it.  

* * *

 

It had happened all at once, but it had been a long time coming. Deep down they had probably both known the inevitable outcome. He couldn’t actually recall when he had realized his true feelings for Bucky, but once he had there was no going back. Steve had tried to lock up the feelings, and throw the key away. But fate had other plans for the two of them, and Steve’s deep, dark secret had been thrust into the light.

When he had told Bucky, Steve had thought for sure that it was all over, but by some miracle he had been wrong. Bucky loved him back. No matter how many times he tried, he would never be able to accurately describe what that had felt like. Every day had been better than the last. Just to wake up and remember that Bucky loved him was all that Steve ever could have asked for and then some.

That was not to say it had been easy. On the contrary, it had been one of the most difficult things in his entire life. They had fought for their relationship, and they had fought hard. But now his worst fear was coming to fruition. He had always known that it was likely to end painfully. The life that they led just didn’t leave room for anything else. Pain and heartbreak were constant companions for the two soldiers. Everything always ended with one or the other.

Yet even though he had been preparing for the end since before it had even begun, it still hurt worse than anything he’d ever felt before. It was like his heart had been ripped out of his chest and the cavity left open while his brain and lungs somehow conspired to keep him alive. Every thought burned. Every breath was agony. And in that murky, depraved part of his psyche, hurt was all that he desired. Hurt was what he deserved.

For so long he had had to be strong for Bucky: be the rock and the compass. That had been his self-imposed responsibility and now he felt unbalanced without it. Bucky was a piece of him, and his absence left a terrible void. The secret parts of him were slipping out. Pain and want and fire filled his soul with a restlessness that he had only rarely allowed himself to explore in the heat of a fight. Steve was scared, but he was also oddly electrified.

When he closed his eyes he could still feel the cold metal fingers gripping his throat. He could still see the emptiness in the gray eyes. Focusing on that memory helped to bring him back down. It took him back to those awful days after they had escaped from Red Skull. Back then, it had taken a lot for him to bring Bucky back. The man had been feral; something fundamental had been ripped away from him. Secretly, Steve had always worried that Bucky hadn’t actually gotten that piece back, and now it seemed like he had been right.


	18. Ding-Dong the Director's Dead!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is dealing with the aftermath of the assassination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the title of this chapter, but I literally couldn't resist once it popped into my head.

**LOCATION: SHIELD MAXIMUM SECURITY PENITENTIARY**

_Trickster_

When they were back at the prison, they were gathered in the conference room. The Director had been assassinated. They had been taken out to the scene although he wasn’t entirely sure why all of them had needed to go. It seemed that the Captain had it all perfectly in hand.

The blond man had moved around the scene with a practiced routine. It had been rather fascinating to watch, actually. The Captain had behaved like an animal tracking its prey. He had sniffed at the air and followed a trail that only he saw. Loki had followed the human man, fascinated by his instinctual behavior.

When they had gotten to the top of the roof, the Captain had paused to smell the air again. He must have caught a scent because for a moment, his impassive face had crumpled. In that moment a sneaking suspicion had sprouted in Loki. The Captain had not remained up on the roof for very long. Once he began his descent Loki went to work.

It only took a simple spell for his suspicions to be confirmed. When he had peered down at the sidewalk below, Amora had been staring up at him. With that one look, Loki could tell that she had also seen it. The Winter Soldier had been busy.

* * *

 

_Enchantress_

As a general principle, Amora tried not to be concerned with the affairs of others. However, this time she had been drawn up in the complicated web of events that had led to this point. Therefore, the stony look in the Captain’s eyes spoke volumes to her. It was troubling to see him once again completely shutting out the world around him. He truly looked like a soldier when he was like this. If he were an Asgardian warrior, there would have even been a time when Amora would have been fearful of him.

As it were, she was _concerned_ for him. She was not used to having feelings like that. It was strange; she had never really been worried about another person before. Well except for Thor and Loki, but those days were gone. This wasn’t the same anyway. Amora didn’t love Steve, didn’t desire him. But she _liked_ him. He was funny, loyal, and strong and she didn’t mind his company.

It was an utterly foreign concept to her. She was worried about the Captain, and as a result she was worried about his mate. These feelings were totally outside of her principles. There was a word that came to mind, _friendship_. Amora had never really had _friends_ before, but she assumed that this was what it felt like.

Regardless, she was troubled by the Captain’s behavior. She really wanted to do something. The vision that she had conjured at the automobile crash site had caused a pang in her chest. She had watched Director Fury, he knew that things did not bode well for him, and she had seen the Winter Soldier. He had been perched on the roof of one of the buildings. It had been a disturbing image. Amora had always sensed that the Winter Soldier was unstable and troubled, but to see his eyes so cold and devoid of feeling… She had seen that look before, both in the mirror and in another. If he continued on this path, she feared for the Soldier.

She had watched him laying entirely still, his finger hovering over the trigger of his weapon. There had been nothing but utter focus and concentration in his eyes. The rest of his face had been hidden under some sort of mask. And then his finger had twitched, a lightning-quick movement that held such devastating consequences. Director Fury was dead because of that single movement, and now the Winter Soldier would be a hunted man.

* * *

 

_Captain_

For the first two weeks Bucky didn’t say a single word to him. He had looked like a caged animal: eyes carefully evaluating his surroundings at all times, hand always hovering over a weapon. On more than one night Steve had woken up to see Bucky staring at him with empty eyes and a knife in his hand. It had broken his heart.

After two weeks had passed Bucky would say ‘yes’ and ‘no’, but other than those two words it was only grunts and stiff nods. It had been almost painful to see how tense Bucky was at all times. Every now and then Steve would catch him staring at his metal arm as though he were just seeing it for the first time. There hadn’t been a single day that Steve didn’t question the choice that he made that fateful day in the desert. But he knew that if time could magically be rewound he would do the same thing in a heartbeat. Bucky was all that he had, and selfish as it may have been, he couldn’t have let him go.

The first weeks had passed in a frenzy of sleepless nights and endless days on the run. Red Skull had not been easily evaded. His men tracked Steve and Bucky through the back alleys of the world, always right behind them. Of course they had also gone AWOL, but Steve wasn’t entirely sure that the Army even knew that he and Bucky were still alive. It wouldn’t surprise him to know that Red Skull had rid them of their former lives.

Being chased relentlessly wasn’t the worst part of those days. No, for Steve the hardest part had been watching Bucky. Bucky was a cold-blooded killing machine. They had left a bloody trail behind them. Steve had watched him kill with his bare hands, the metal one having considerable strength for crushing windpipes. He had watched Bucky shoot men and women dead without blinking.

The first time they had been cornered by a team of five agents, Steve thought for sure that they were dead men. But the five agents hadn’t stood a chance against the Winter Soldier; he was more machine than he was man. Less than ten minutes passed before all five were dead by Bucky’s hands. Steve had been horrorstruck, but Bucky had simply collected the weapons of the fallen agents.

There had also been one particularly memorable night when they had been on the run for a month and a half. Steve had inadvertently reached for Bucky in his sleep. Bucky had had him pinned down with a knife pressed against his throat in less time than it would take the average person to blink. Steve would never forget that moment; it had been a definitive point for both of them. The way that Bucky had stared down at him, cold and feral at the same time, and the sadness he had felt in his own heart were things that he carried with him every day.

He honestly didn’t know what exactly Red Skull had done to Bucky, but it wasn’t the same thing that he did to Steve. Steve had gotten some sort of injection, and when he woke up the world was an entirely new place. It had felt like he’d been seeing everything through a dirty window his whole life, hearing things through plugged ears, smelling things with a cold. Suddenly everything was so clear. And he’d become bigger and stronger than he ever could have on his own. When he had joined the army Steve had been average size, but after the injection he looked like a real-life action figure.

Steve had never felt better. But Bucky had been different. The first time Steve saw him, he took in the metal arm, the sweat coating Bucky’s sallow skin. He had looked terrible. Red Skull had assured him that Bucky was simply healing. He told Steve that Bucky had been given the same injection as well as the advanced prosthetic and that he should be up and back to normal soon.

That had not been the case. Steve had insisted on keeping a vigil at Bucky’s bedside. But when he finally woke up Bucky wouldn’t even look at him. He knew immediately that something was wrong; this wasn’t his Bucky. The man wore the same gray-blue eyes, the same brown hair, but it wasn’t Steve’s Bucky. This man was a dog that had been kicked around too much. Except it was worse than that. Although he hadn’t realized it immediately, Steve learned soon enough that Bucky was lethal. If he was a dog that had been kicked around too much, he had been reincarnated as something much stronger and much more vicious.

Steve immediately missed the shit-eating grin, the sharp tongue, and the mischievous glint in his eye. There was no sign of the punky smart-ass kid from Brooklyn. The man in front of Steve was a stranger. It was the worst possible outcome except that Bucky was alive, and Steve didn’t think he could have gone on without him. He wanted nothing more than to hold Bucky and have Bucky hold him back. Bucky was alive, and Steve couldn’t possibly explain how that made him feel: a powerful cocktail of relief, love, guilt, and shame.

After the escape, Bucky had stuck with Steve. He was never quite sure why because Bucky gave absolutely no indication that he knew Steve. Certainly, there was no sign that he loved Steve the way he had before. But nonetheless, Bucky had followed him. In that sense it was just like it had always been: Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes against the world.

_But now_... Bucky was out there as the true Winter Soldier. He’d assassinated the head of SHIELD! Steve felt sick with worry because if they found Bucky he didn’t know what they would do to him. Somehow he needed to get there first. He had to know if Bucky was in there or if it was the man from those long months after the desert. Either way, Steve would do absolutely everything in his power to save him. They hadn’t come this far just to lose each other.


	19. Days Gone By

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve gives a brief account of his and Bucky's past.

**LOCATION: SHIELD MAXIMUM SECURITY PENITENTIARY**

_Trickster_

The Captain had taken on the role of their leader. Loki was content to let him take it; the less attention that SHIELD paid him the better. He wasn’t looking to stand out. Besides, the Captain had proven to be a competent warrior. Sparring with him was akin to sparring with a warrior on Asgard. Although he was not quite as strong as the average Asgardian warrior, he still made a formidable opponent. He was smart, and that was more than Loki could say for many of the sparring partners he had had over the years. It was a trait that he admired.

However, since the disappearance of the pensive metal armed soldier the Captain had been a bit volatile. He pushed them hard, but he pushed himself even harder. Loki was impressed by the man’s endurance. Countless punching bags had fallen victim to the Captain’s frustrations. Loki had also felt the wrong end of the Captain’s punches. Not even Amora was exempt. Of course, the Captain was always horrified with himself when he struck her. The man was a strange creature; his moral code was somewhat mystifying to Loki.

At other times, the mortal would slump on the floor. He would barely grunt in response to anything that Loki or Amora would say to him. Today had been another one of those days. The Captain was lying on the floor staring blankly at the ceiling. If it weren’t for the steady rise and fall of his chest, it would appear that the man had succumbed to his sorrow.

Loki cast a look towards Amora. She met his gaze, answering his unasked plea. Neither of them was particularly well-equipped to handle an empathetic conversation. However, he believed that Amora would do better with it than he. It seemed that whenever he and the Captain exchanged words, no matter how innocuously it began, it devolved into a heated trading of barbs. Amora sighed, appearing slightly put-out. With a silent acknowledgement, she turned to walk over to the Captain.

He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but he couldn’t help himself. For a while they simply lay side-by-side in silence. But Amora’s sparkling voice broke the silence as she murmured to the mortal man.

“Are you alright, Steven?”

 _Steven_? When had she started calling the Captain by his given name? Loki tamped down the irrational quell of jealousy. The Captain had no romantic interest in Amora. It was actually rather amazing. Most mortal men would be unable to resist her ethereal beauty. But, he reminded himself, Steven wasn’t most mortals. There was a fierce bond between that man and his mate, the likes of which Loki had not seen in many moons.

“It’s my fault that this is even happening,” Steven sighed.

“Why is it that mortals insist on shouldering all of the blame for things they could not possibly be entirely responsible for?”

A dry chuckle, “We’re all just a bunch of martyrs."

Amora remained quiet, waiting for Steven to fill the silence when he was ready.

“Bucky and me, we’ve known each other practically since we were born. Grew up in the same neighborhood, went to the same schools; it was always the two of us. When we were kids I used to be sick a lot and I was what you’d call a late bloomer, so I was smaller than all the other boys. I was a stupid punk, though, and Bucky was constantly having to finish fights for me,” the smile in his voice was audible across the room.

Amora chuckled lightly at that. Loki smirked himself. It reminded him a little bit of his relationship with Thor when they were young. The thought quickly soured.

“Anyway, we were just best friends for a long time. But somewhere along the way I realized that I was stupid in love with him,” there was a pause, “Guys being together romantically has always been kind of difficult. I mean, things are a lot better but still…I was scared shitless when I realized what was going on with my feelings. So, I decided to get as far away from him as possible. I signed up for the army.”

“That is where you learned to be a warrior?” Amora inquired.

Loki caught Steven’s nod before the man continued, “Of course, I never could keep a secret from Buck. Didn’t even take him a week after he found out to sign up, too. Not long after that, he found out the other secret I was hidin’ from him,” Steven’s voice wavered, but he continued his tale, “I’ll never stop being amazed that he loved me back. It’ll always be the single greatest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Loki watched Amora reach out and clasp Steven’s large hand. He felt a pang, but not of jealousy. It was some emotion he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“We graduated from high school, went to basic training, and shipped out. The war…it was harder than either of us was prepared for. We were just kids, but all around us our new friends were dying. It forced us to grow up fast.

“Anyway, late one afternoon we were riding in a transport with three other guys. We hit an IED- a bomb. I-” Steve seemed to choke on his words, “I don’t like to talk about it,” he paused briefly before taking a deep breath and continuing, “God, I was so fuckin’ scared. I thought for sure that I’d lost him. But then I saw him. He’d been thrown a ways out into the sand. When I got to him he was unconscious, and his arm was pretty much blown off.

“I thought he was dead at first. But he wasn’t,” Steven’s words were harder to hear, thick with emotion, “And I didn’t know what to do. I was just nineteen years old… I,” Steven seemed to go somewhere else for a moment, but then he visibly shook himself and started again, “There was this guy. A big-shot military contractor, basically a businessman who profited off the war. Doesn’t really matter. Anyway, this guy had made me an offer. He was doin’ some kinda trial or somethin’ and wanted me to be a subject. He told me that he could make me a better soldier, a better man. I’d told him no,” Steven turned to look at Amora, and though he couldn’t see it Loki knew that she was smiling reassuringly.

“I made the decision to take Buck to that guy, Red Skull, although I didn’t know that was who he was at the time. I’ve never been able to explain why exactly I did it. Could’ve taken him back to base, could’ve waited for help, could’ve done a lot of things…I don’t know. I guess maybe I thought that this guy could give him something better? I wanted Buck to have the best medical care possible. Whatever the reason was, I guess it doesn’t really matter. The point is, they did something to Buck there. He was different afterwards. I got us out of there, but it was months before Bucky even said more than a single word to me. Somehow they took away the things that made him, _him_.

“He used to be so different than he is, even now, and he’s been a lot better these last few years. There was a time when he was the first one to smile, when everyone in a room would gravitate to him cuz he told the best stories and could make anybody laugh. He was sarcastic as hell, and he was just so _alive_. Everybody wanted a piece of him. He was magic.

“He used to be so happy, and I ruined him.”

It seemed that Steven’s tale was over. Loki leaned back, digesting the information. He felt displaced, the story hitting closer to home than he had anticipated. There had been a time when he too was carefree and happy. Yet now he was bitter and weighed down by so many burdens.

Life was not what it had once been. But perhaps that was how it went for everyone. Perhaps they all had a moment that changed them: a moment when the buoyancy of youth was traded for the heaviness of age and all of the knowledge that came along with it. Perhaps everyone bore the scars of their choices in different ways. But in the end, they all lost their innocence. And with their innocence went their happiness. Any happiness felt thereafter was a weak shadow, a poor imitation of the real thing. Perhaps they were all miserable, struggling to find that pureness of emotion that had left them along with the naiveté of childhood.

Loki suddenly longed to be anywhere but there. He craved things acutely that he had not wanted in some time. What he wouldn’t give in that moment to have one more hug from Frigga. How he longed to joke with his brother again. There had even been a time when he thought that Odin loved him; if only he could go back to those days. But alas, those days were long gone. Those bridges had been razed until not even ashes remained.


	20. Something Wicked...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone is plotting...

**LOCATION: CLASSIFIED**

_Winter Soldier_

In through the nose, out through the mouth. He just needed to breathe. It would be OK. Everything would be OK. Steve would be OK. And that was all that was important to him anymore. Quite possibly, it had been the only thing that was important to him since the moment he met Steve when they were just a couple of dumb kids.

No matter how much he tried to concentrate on just breathing, his limbs still felt twitchy. He could still feel the itch in his trigger finger. Really, his entire body was barely balanced on a tight rope. It was all he could do to remain still instead of pacing restlessly trying to burn off some of the jittery energy. So much time had passed since he had last felt this lethal cocktail of emotions and sensations.

The feelings were so achingly familiar; it hurt, but it hurt so good. He was an addict, and the rush of the high was so much more powerful after such a long abstention. It was enough to overwhelm him if he let it. But he couldn’t. If he did that, there would be no coming back from this. If he gave into the rush, he would lose all pieces of Bucky that remained. They were hanging by a thread as it was. The Winter Soldier could not win this because if he won, then Red Skull won.

But, God it was hard. His fists flexed, open, closed, open, closed. His entire body felt too tight; he just wanted to rip out of his skin, to be free. It was everywhere that his eyes landed; it was inside of him. All he could think about was the tensing of his trigger finger, the slight kickback, the perfect arc of the bullet. And then the images of blood. They danced tantalizingly through his mind, and he wanted to join in. That was the best way to describe what he was feeling: he _wanted_.

He sat with his back ramrod straight, an old habit that had come back to him far too easily. Although his expression was completely blank, his mind was anything but. Disparate images crashed through his brain like a tsunami, ripping him apart from the inside. The image that kept coming back over and over, no matter how far his thoughts strayed, was blond hair and blue eyes filled with disappointment.

He couldn’t help but remember the time after he and Steve had escaped from Red Skull and his sick science experiments. His memories of that time were shrouded, as though he was viewing a poor quality recording that someone else had taken. There were also blank spaces, a scratched CD. But he could remember enough to be nauseated whenever the memories crossed his consciousness.

He wouldn’t let them in this time. This time he would be stronger; he would be stronger for Steve. _Except_ …there were pieces of the last week or so that he couldn’t find no matter how much he dug through the recesses of his mind. And that was the thought that had him truly terrified. Maybe he didn’t have the option to be strong. It was entirely possible that even now his self-awareness was just an illusion. Once again he was just a puppet dancing whenever Red Skull tugged on his strings.

. . .

_Unknown_

Months. It had been months and months of hard work, which he had mostly been doing alone. Not that he would have rather been working with anyone else. After all, if you wanted something done right it was best to do it yourself. Wasn’t that how the saying went? Whatever, that wasn’t important.

What was important was that he had begun to feel the urgency of his private mission more and more strongly since the incident. He knew she had been there, and if they had just gotten there a little bit sooner… But, the place had been rigged with magic and illusions. It had been almost impossible to find the damn church; he supposed it was lucky that they had found it at all. Still, if they had just gotten there a little bit sooner they could have gotten _all_ of them.

It really bothered him. How had she gotten her hands on those two? And the other woman, too. He had no idea who the blonde woman with the two men had been. But after a thorough analysis of the place, he had a sneaking suspicion that she was a sorceress, too. Which was _very_ bad news. _Fucking magic_!

When they had finally gotten inside the church, they had gotten a slightly clearer picture of what had happened. Well, that wasn’t entirely accurate. They had gotten a clearer picture of the parties that had been involved. But it still didn’t add up. The whole thing was one big shit show.

There had been DNA confirming the presences of three of SHIELD’s most dangerous criminals, who incidentally were supposed to be deceased or incarcerated. And the energy signatures that had remained confirmed the presence of at least three different magic-practitioners.

There had also been signs of struggle in several places. Traces of magic had lingered in most of those areas. The whole situation bugged him more than a little bit. First of all, at least one of the players was supposed to be dead. He had been declared dead over _three fucking years ago_! Then there were the two that he had _personally_ seen arrested. While he had only actually seen one of the two men, there were traces of DNA that confirmed the presence of the other man.

Was SHIELD somehow involved in the whole thing? Because honestly that was starting to make more and more sense to him the longer he puzzled over it all. After all, the witch had been part of the Avengers, but she had worked closely with SHIELD, he knew that for a fact since SHIELD was fascinated by magic. Then there was the demi-god psychopath that SHIELD had officially declared dead over three years ago. Not to mention the two criminals who were supposed to be incarcerated at some unknown SHIELD facility; they did have a history of escaping imprisonment, though… But there was one final nail in the coffin: the SHIELD vehicle that had carted away the ghost, the jailbird, and the stranger. _That_ was pretty damn hard to explain.

. . .

“ _Yes_!” he rolled backwards in his chair across the space.

He looked at the various holographic charts hovering over the cluttered tables. They confirmed what he had already known. The flashing green icon indicated his success. Finally, _finally_ he had figured it out! Now he could put the wheels in motion on his plan. Soon he would have his answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is kind of short. But next chapter is longer than usual so it all works out! :) I just finished writing the next chapter, so I'm just working on editing that and should post it soon! Lots of stuff happening there, so stay tuned...   
>  You may have noticed that we have an official chapter count now. The end is in sight! :'(  
>  As always, thank you for reading!


	21. Everything is (Not) OK

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trap is set, and the Renegades walk right into it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, a longer chapter!

**LOCATION: CLASSIFIED**

_Trickster_

This was ridiculous. It _really_ seemed like SHIELD should reconsider who they were sending after Scarlet Witch and the rest of the so-called Red Army. After all, their merry little band of criminals had not had much success. They had even lost one of their own to the enemy. Yet, here they were. Once again SHIELD had sent them out to investigate a possible Scarlet Witch location.

There was, of course, also the matter of his teammates. One of them had defected. But the other two were both driving him crazy. Amora was just being herself. She always knew exactly how to get under his skin. The Captain was a veritable ball of angst; the entire way up he had been fidgeting ceaselessly. His mood swings had continued; he cycled between incensed and despondent. If SHIELD was going to insist they investigate, they would probably be better off leaving the Captain behind.

These were all moot points, of course. They had been dropped in the middle of nowhere. The only things around them for miles were trees and fields. Currently, the three of them were standing on a dirt road watching the SHIELD vehicle’s dust cloud as it drove away.

Loki glanced down at the scrap of paper with coordinates on it. Apparently this time they were responsible for transporting themselves the rest of the way. He sighed, shoving the paper in Amora’s general direction. Without even looking at the other two, Loki simply summoned his magic and disappeared.

* * *

 

_Captain_

Loki was being even pissier than usual. He had taken to playing the martyr as of late, constantly sighing and just generally looking world-weary. It was pretty ridiculous, considering. Seriously, that dude was such an ass. Proof of point: Amora and Steve were currently standing on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere. Apparently Loki had decided that he didn’t need to warn them before he just up and fucking _teleported_ away!

Amora pursed her lips, wrenching Steve’s wrist away from where it was crossed over his chest. Before he even had a chance to protest, they were swirling in endless gold. Possibly the only saving grace of teleportation was that it didn’t last long. As soon as they were on solid ground again, Amora released Steve’s wrist. And he promptly fell to the ground in an undignified heap.

Goddammit he hated teleporting.

* * *

 

When he had finally finished vomiting up every scrap of food he had ever consumed along with a few internal organs, Steve managed to survey his surroundings. If he had to guess he would say they were in upstate, but he was pretty disoriented from the whole teleporting thing, so… It seemed they were on some kind of farm. All he could see was one giant building and two or three outlying buildings that were much smaller. Honestly, the buildings looked a bit too industrial to be abandoned farm buildings, so Steve really wasn’t sure where they were.

He saw no immediate signs of Scarlet Witch’s presence, either. His heart dropped, and he immediately felt guilty heat flooding his face. Loki was standing a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest regarding Steve with blatant distaste. Amora was standing off to the side studying her nails and studiously ignoring the two men.

“Are you quite finished?” Loki asked, raising an eyebrow at Steve.

Much to his chagrin, Steve could feel himself turning even redder. He summoned up a glare for the smug bastard. Loki just flashed him a wicked sneer.

“I see no signs of Scarlet Witch here,” Loki said, casting an uninterested glance across the area.

Amora rolled her eyes and huffed. Steve was pretty sure he heard her muttering something under her breath, but he didn’t recognize the language. It seemed that Loki heard it, too because he briefly narrowed his eyes in her direction.

“So you’ve already cased the whole place?” Steve asked.

“Obviously,” Loki (ever the martyr) sighed.

Again, Steve heard Amora saying something under her breath. And again, Loki glared at her. This time, he was far less surreptitious about it.

“Is there something you would like to say, _darling_?” Loki’s green eyes flashed dangerously.

Amora raised her head innocently, looking at the two men as if she were only just realizing they were there. Steve did not miss the fire in her eyes when they passed over Loki, though. He was guessing that might have something to do with the ‘darling’ thing. Somehow he got the feeling that no one called the Enchantress darling without her express permission. Honestly, Steve was somewhat surprised that Loki didn’t suddenly combust in an explosion of gold.

“Hmm?” she hummed.

This time it was Loki who groused under his breath. It had an opposite effect on Amora, who simply raised an elegant eyebrow at Loki. She smiled running her tongue over her teeth suggestively and batted her eyelashes. Loki appeared to be literally seething when Steve looked back at him. For the first time in a while a burst of laughter bubbled up, and Steve snorted loudly. He tried to cover it, but the damage was done as Loki turned an incredulous glare on him.

“Is something amusing you, _mortal_?” Loki hissed.

Steve honestly meant to shake his head, or say no, or anything except to open his mouth and laugh out loud. Unfortunately, that is exactly what happened. And this time, he couldn’t stop. He was gasping for breath and clutching at his stomach before long, and Loki was looking increasingly murderous with every guffaw.

“You little…” the rest of Loki’s words were lost under a fresh snort.

And then Loki was lunging for him, and Steve was too slow to defend himself. Suddenly they were tumbling around on the grass, and Steve was doing a very poor job at fighting back. Because despite the very real danger of injury that came with fighting the demigod, he was nearly hysterical and the laughter was not stopping.

Just as a pale, but rock hard, fist was about to connect with his face, Steve felt the weight of the other man’s body lifted from him. He looked up in shock, tears slipping from the corners of his eyes to see Loki on his ass several feet away. This confounded him, but it was also absolutely hilarious.

Amora and Loki were glaring at each other and apparently arguing in that foreign language. Steve had no idea what they were saying, but it was never unamusing to watch Loki get his ass handed to him by Amora. That woman was a serious badass, and she didn’t take shit from anybody. Every time the two Asgardians fought, it seemed that she came out on top. Honestly, the two of them were like an old married couple, and it was pretty obvious which one of them wore the proverbial pants.

This entertaining line of thought was suddenly derailed by a loud boom from the largest of the buildings. The verbal smack down between Loki and Amora abruptly ceased as they both turned angrily to the building as if they couldn’t believe something would have the gall to interrupt them.

It was eerily silent; no follow-up sounds came after the initial one. The three Renegades silently regarded one another, holding a debate amongst themselves without uttering a single word. All three of them were on the same page, and together they moved towards the source of the loud noise.

* * *

 

They really needed to work on their trap-sensing skills.

It was kind of becoming an issue. Of course, hindsight was twenty-twenty. But really, they should have seen this one coming a million miles away. Or maybe not, but it was easy enough to think that now that they were trapped in a room with three Avengers. In their defense, though, he could honestly say he hadn’t anticipated these particular assailants.

Steve really wished he could rub at his tailbone, but he would not give these fuckers the satisfaction of seeing his pain. But _goddammit_ did it fucking hurt! He turned to glare at Loki because somehow this had to be the smug little bastard’s fault. Maybe he couldn’t think of a legitimate reason at the moment, but he just chalked that up to being under duress at the hands of three _Avengers_.

On the other side of Loki, Amora seemed to be enjoying herself. She smiled seductively at the three Avengers, gazing at them from underneath her lashes. It seemed to be working; at least, the men seemed to be avoiding looking at her. Occasionally one of them would dare a glance at her in a way akin to how one might look at someone who spontaneously sprouted tentacles. Steve found it to be entertaining, but Loki did not.

Steve was unsure whether or not Loki was aware of the fact that he was actually hissing. It was honestly a toss-up. Most people wouldn’t sit and hiss like that, but then Steve wasn’t sure that Loki could even technically be called a person. Either way, the hissing seemed to be affecting two of the men as they kept exchanging looks that said _what the fuck_ with one another. The ringleader didn’t even seem to notice, or if he did he seemed unaffected. Of course, since Steve was of the opinion that Iron Man had a few screws lose himself it was entirely possible he hissed at people sometimes, too.

When Iron Man leaned down in Loki’s face, Loki legitimately _growled_ at him. Steve may or may not have jumped a little bit at that, but that was nothing compared to the looks Iron Man’s companions exchanged. Before he had a chance to tamp it down he was once again laughing hysterically and getting some concerned looks. He wondered absently if that was why Loki did it, cuz goddamit this was entertaining! Although, to be fair he didn’t think he was actually _scaring_ the Avengers the way that Loki had, but still.

“What’s your pal’s problem there, Reindeer Games? Does he have some kind of medical issue that needs attention, or something? Or is he just, _you know_ ,” Iron Man, Tony Stark, twirled his finger next to his temple.

Loki shot a withering look at Stark, “I do _not_ know, actually. Your Midgardian gestures are lost on me Stark. Although I will say you look even more foolish than usual.”

“Ha!” Steve didn’t even try to quiet it this time. Although, he did notice Amora’s smirk and a possible spark of mirth in the Trickster’s eyes.

“Seriously, dude. Are you OK?” Stark turned his scrutiny to Steve who simply laughed harder in response.

“Oh, just ignore him! He’s been rather unstable of late,” Loki sighed, sounding very put upon. Stark’s eyes lingered on Steve as he seemed to process Loki’s words before turning back to the Trickster with narrowed eyes that held a question.

Loki merely shrugged, ostensibly losing interest in the interrogation as he yawned and leaned back against the wall.

Stark chose to ignore this display, “I don’t suppose you’d care to fill me in on what exactly this is?” he gestured widely to include the three criminals.

Loki seemed to consider this for a moment, quirking his lips thoughtfully. Steve did not like the devious gleam in the Trickster’s eye when he turned back to Stark. “We are looking for the Captain’s puppy. It ran away.”

The words hit Steve like a heart attack, and he was pretty sure he heard a strange wheezing sound come from his own throat. He couldn’t bring himself to look at any of the others in the room, instead deciding to focus on his lap. Any trace of laughter was long gone.

“You working with Scarlet Witch?” Stark challenged, apparently choosing to ignore Loki’s explanation and Steve's reaction.

These words caught Loki’s attention, and Steve and Amora’s. Amora cast a concerned glance in Steve’s direction. Steve’s eyes shot up to the Avenger reflexively. Their reactions did not go unnoticed by the Avengers, either.

“Ah, it seems I’ve hit on something,” Stark smirked.

Loki spoke very evenly, as if it were taking an excess of self-control to keep himself in check, “You know not of what you are speaking, Stark.”

“Oh really?” Stark argued, “So then why did my surveillance spot you at the last known location of Scarlet Witch? And how do you explain your presence here?”

Emerald eyes darkened as Loki regarded Stark, but he remained silent.

“That’s what I thought, Reindeer Games.”

* * *

 

“What are we going to do with them?” the man in the red and black bodysuit whispered.

The three Avengers had moved away from their captives in order to conference. They needn’t have bothered since their captives didn’t even have to strain themselves to hear the conversation.

Not to mention the fact that as soon as they had stepped away, Loki and Amora had shed their bonds. Amora had taken pity on Steve and freed him, as well. Magical powers sure would come in handy sometimes.  It certainly would have been nice to know that, in spite of how things appeared, he wasn't actually _trapped_.

“Stark, please tell me you have a plan,” the man Steve remembered was called Falcon said.

The ensuing silence was all the answer anyone needed. “Dammit, Stark! What are we supposed to do with these guys? We can’t just leave them here!” Falcon sounded like he was at the end of his rope.

“Shouldn’t we turn them over to SHIELD or something?” the other man asked.

“We can’t turn them over to SHIELD,” Stark replied, “I think SHIELD is somehow involved in all this.”

“ _What_?” Falcon exclaimed.

“Think about it,” Stark began, “First SHIELD declared Loki dead after the Battle of New York, then SHIELD took the Captain and his partner to one of their facilities after we arrested them. Not to mention the SHIELD vehicle we saw at the last scene. We can’t trust them!”

Falcon huffed in obvious exasperation, but he didn't say anything.

“I see where you’re going with this, man, but we have to do _something_ with them,” the other man tried to reason.

“Perhaps I could take them off your hands,” a feminine voice rang out over the space.

Everyone’s necks snapped up in unison to see Scarlet Witch smiling at them from the doorway. Two figures flanked her on either side.

“ _Bucky_!” Steve couldn’t stop the broken whisper.

But Bucky didn’t even look at him. He kept his eyes focused straight ahead, like the perfect soldier he was. There wasn’t even a twitch in his features to suggest that Steve’s words had reached him, but Steve knew that he had.

* * *

 

 

_Trickster_

The walls of the old building shook and with one final heaving sigh they began to collapse. Loki was not able to spare a glance to watch the destruction. He was too deep in the heat of battle. Things had escalated quickly after Scarlet Witch and her minions showed up. Now they were scattered in the overgrown vegetation surrounding the location where the large building had once stood.

He dodged another blast from Iron Man’s repulsors, and he was immediately knocked sideways by a force colliding with his side. The man of ever-changing stature suddenly grew to full-size once again. He and Iron Man came at Loki, but Loki quickly teleported himself away from them. This was the game that they had been playing for however long this blasted battle had been going on. It was tiresome. They were all here for Scarlet Witch, but obviously the Avengers had not been informed of this. Therefore, instead of working together to take down the witch and her lackeys, the Renegades were spread thin, fighting both the Red Army soldiers and the Avengers.

A quick glance around the field and he was once again apprised of where everyone stood. The man they called Falcon was fighting the Taskmaster; his resiliency was admirable. Loki was keenly aware of the challenge in that particular opponent. Amora and Scarlet Witch were locked in a stalemate; red energy met gold energy between them, and neither advanced. He cursed internally as he realized who was left unaccounted for. Sure enough, when he turned he saw the Captain and the Winter Soldier circling one another.

He did not have much time to focus on this, however, as he was suddenly hit in the chest by a repulsor blast. For a moment, the breath in his chest abandoned him, and he reeled from the blow. But he recovered quickly enough to dodge the tiny figure barreling toward him. Summoning what energy he could while still unable to breathe, several dozen Lokis appeared all over the field.

“Goddammit!” he heard Stark shout.

Using the brief moment of distraction to his advantage, Loki cast a spell in Iron Man’s direction.

“LOKI!” Stark bellowed from inside the green walls that had suddenly sprung up around him.

Loki waved his hand carelessly over his shoulder, heading after that irritating little bug man. He found the man at full-size; the man was a capable warrior, but Loki had had enough of this farce. The Avengers were in the way, and he was done playing their games. A flash of green and the shrinking man disappeared. Somewhere in the grass, an ant was wildly trying to gain its bearings.

He would have continued his magical spree, but a rumbling in the sky froze him in his steps. Looking up in horror, he saw a flash of lightning with a large mass hurtling down its length towards the earth.

 _Thor_.

* * *

_Enchantress_

The thunderous sound was impossible to miss. Although she had not heard it in a very long time, some deep part of her instinctively recognized it. Another angry crack shook the ground around them. Behind the witch she was currently struggling with, she saw a bolt of lightning race down to the earth. And she watched, in a mix of awe and horror, as the figure of a large man came to rest in the place where the lightning had struck. A red cape billowed out behind him as he rose, holding his hammer in front of him ready to strike down any foes.

For a moment she forgot everything else. She forgot where she was, she forgot why she was there, she forgot who she was with, she forgot her own name. Her throat was suddenly drier than bone. The sudden appearance of that familiar blond man had her heart racing and her mind stalling. It had been so long, and she had not realized that he would still have this effect on her.

“AMORA!” a voice split through the ringing in her ears, but she couldn’t process the word.

She slowly became aware that her feet were no longer on the ground. There was no air entering her lungs. Time seemed suspended and irrelevant as she soared through the air. And then the clock sped up and she hit the ground with a crack.

 

* * *

 

_Captain_

Nothing hurt worse than losing the ones you loved. But there were ways of losing them that hurt more than others. It was one thing for someone to break up with you; it was another thing to watch someone you love slip through your fingers. To watch someone lose themselves, forget who they were; that hurt the worst of all.

Steve stared at Bucky, silently pleading for him to recognize him, to acknowledge him, to do anything! The gray eyes that looked back at him remained completely empty. There was no trace of humanity in them; there was certainly no flicker of recognition for Steve. And perhaps worst of all, there was no trace of pain or anguish, just cold, impenetrable slate.

They could continue to circle one another like this all day. Steve knew he would never make the first move. To him, Bucky would never be anything other than Bucky. And he would rather die than hurt his Bucky. He was very aware of how this weakness would likely be the end of him, but that didn’t change a thing.

With that realization, Steve stopped moving. He held his palms out in front of him, showing that he was unarmed. The Winter Soldier briefly looked confused. His calculating eyes darted between Steve’s face and his hands as he hesitated looking uncharacteristically unsure.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, Buck. So you can just go ahead and do it,” Steve’s voice was resigned, but not angry. This was OK. He would die this way, and he was indifferent. After all, any life without his Bucky wasn’t really a life at all; he had realized that long ago in a place far from here.

He felt the blade hurtling towards his abdomen, and steeled himself for the pain. Strangely enough, he wasn’t scared. There was only a bone-deep sense of peace.

This was OK.


	22. Ice is Thicker Than Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Thor have their reunion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this has taken so long to get posted, but here it is (finally)!

**LOCATION: CLASSIFIED**

_Captain_

The blow he was awaiting never came.

He finally realized that he should be bleeding from a stab wound already. When he opened his eyes, he was alone. Bucky was nowhere to be seen, a ghost faded back into the netherworld. Steve couldn’t decide whether to feel relieved or not. He supposed he should be thankful; he should be glad that he wasn’t dead. That was how he should feel, but he didn’t.

Breathing shakily, he tried to focus. He remembered somewhere in the back of his mind that the others had been fighting, too. When he looked up, though, he did not see visions of battle. Instead, the scene unfolding in front of him left him unbalanced.

First he locked onto Amora lying on the ground and Loki cradling her head in his arms, a soft green light emanating from his palm. Despite his efforts to look away, he couldn’t tear his eyes from them. The picture left a hollow ache in his chest. Thankfully the sound of raised voices drew his attention to where Iron Man, Falcon, and a very large blond man stood gesturing wildly at one another. Distantly, Steve wondered what had happened to the other man who had been with Iron Man and Falcon earlier. But that thought was quickly disregarded when he realized that the very large blond man was _Thor_.

He didn’t know a lot about Loki or Amora, but he did know that they were from Asgard, same as Thor. He was also pretty sure that Loki and Thor were brothers. Steve grimaced. This seemed like a bad development, very bad. Something told Steve that Loki and Thor weren’t sending each other Christmas cards, and if Loki’s temper was any indication then a fight between those two would spell disaster.

At the moment, however, Thor and Loki were both occupied with their own tasks. Steve remained standing by himself outside of the action. He didn’t know where to go. Ostensibly he supposed he fit in with Loki and Amora, the chain gang of supervillains. _But_ … a brief glance in their direction and he knew that he didn’t truly belong there. And he certainly didn’t belong with the heroes. So he stood quietly observing the events unfolding around him, an outcast once again.

* * *

 

_Trickster_

He cursed his traitorous hands for shaking. His heart was in his throat, and he thought it had probably never beaten so rapidly. In one hand he held Amora’s head, tendrils of blonde slipping like silk between his fingers. Her eyes were closed, but she was breathing. She was breathing; he had to keep repeating that to himself because he wasn’t sure that he believed it.

The Scarlet Witch had knocked Amora several yards across the field with an energy blast. Loki had watched in horror as her body had sailed through the air. But then she had crashed to the ground, and Loki’s body had suddenly reconnected with his brain. He was beside her in a flash. She lay in an awkward heap, and yet she still looked more beautiful than any other woman in the nine realms.

In this moment, with Amora lying unconscious in his lap, he was able to admit to himself how much he loved her. It wasn’t that he had ever stopped, far from it. He had certainly tried, though; it would be better for everyone involved if he could erase his feelings. And yet, she had remained inside of him, always under his skin.

A soft sigh of breath hit his palm, and he let the magic recede back inside his veins. Amora’s eyes blinked open sleepily. She looked at him for a moment, and then she smiled at him. His breath caught in his throat; he didn’t deserve this. Nevertheless, he was unable to tear his eyes away.

“ _Min ravn_ ,” she reached up and clasped his palm, which was still hovering over her and pulled it against her heart.

Loki swallowed hard, not sure what to do. But the moment was shattered by a roar that was impossible to ignore. Internally, Loki cringed as he watched the recognition dawn across Amora’s bright eyes causing her to quickly rise to her feet. In a matter of seconds, she was lost to him again. Once again Loki was left alone and cursing his brother’s name.

* * *

 

He was feeling particularly bitter, anger pulsing just beneath the surface when he finally faced his estranged brother. Every suppressed emotion, every buried word, all of it was pushing to be let out. All of the venom that he held inside of himself strained towards Thor.

Thor just stared at him with those big, stupid eyes of his. Loki felt the long-dormant icy whispers slithering into his ears. Briefly, he felt his black heart sinking; he had been doing so well with keeping the whispers at bay. And yet, as soon as Thor reappeared in his life… He did not think it was possible to hate anyone as much as he hated Thor in that moment.

Finally Thor broke the silence, “ _Brother_!”

Fury welled up in Loki, so strongly that no words seemed adequate to express it. He was dimly aware of the green crackles at his fingertips.

“I am not your brother,” his words were daggers.

“Loki, please, I thought you _dead_!” Thor was pleading with him.

He scoffed, “And how happy you must have been. Did you and father celebrate? I imagine it must have been a rather momentous occasion for you.”

“That is not true, brother, and you know it,” Thor replied quietly.

“I AM NOT YOUR BROTHER!” the words left him so forcefully that spit flew from his lips.

Thor took a half-step back from Loki. Perhaps it had not been a conscious gesture, but that was irrelevant. It was enough to pop the cork, letting all of the acid and venom inside of him burst free. His answering smile was a twisted gash.

“We share no blood. I am one of the monsters that father warned us about as children. Do you not remember his admonitions?” he paused briefly to savor Thor’s stunned expression.

“Did Father and Mother not tell you the truth of my heritage, _brother_?” he spat the last mocking word, enjoying the slight flinch it elicited.

“Father did tell me how he rescued you from certain death in Jötunheim all those years ago,” Thor’s face changed, as if he were remembering something painful, “Mother," Thor seemed to struggle with his words, "Mother is in Valhalla now, Loki,” he whispered.

He honestly would not have believed that any words could have bled the vitriol from his veins so quickly. But Thor’s statement proved that to be false. It seemed as if everything around him suddenly tipped off balance.

In a flash, the rage returned, even stronger than before. Could he have _nothing_ in this cursed life?! Must everyone he ever loved be ripped away from him so cruelly? Wasn’t it enough punishment to look at his pale flesh and see the lie that he wore every day? Being constantly reminded that he was a monster, living his life in this unremitting purgatory did not satisfy whatever beings controlled his fate?

If only he could have died when he fell into the abyss. That was what he had really wanted, deep down. He had just wanted to leave behind the pain and suffering that seemed to follow in his wake. Perhaps he was a coward, and all he really wanted was to escape the self-loathing that came with his every waking hour. But alas, Hel had not claimed him and he lived on.

A terrible keening sound splintered the air. He was vaguely aware that it was him, but he could not seem to care. His mind and heart were in turmoil and he lashed out like a wounded animal, tearing at the weedy grass, clumps of earth flying through the air. The sound of timber groaning preceded the annihilation of the three remaining buildings.

He could feel himself losing control; he could feel the cold racing up his arms. When he turned around, they would all see him for the abomination that he truly was. And for once, he did not care. What difference did it make? He had nothing to live for anyway. Any person he dared to love, any dream he dared to reach for, it would be mercilessly torn away from him. Surely, he may as well just accept his hand and be done with it.

Some men were born to be heroes, kings: loved and celebrated. But other men were born to be villains, monsters: hated and feared.

* * *

 

_Enchantress_

Amora watched the drama unfolding between the brothers. Regardless of what horrible words Loki said in the throes of anger, Thor and Loki would always be brothers. She could never see them as anything else. Yet, she stood by and watched the hatred in Loki’s blood spill out of his mouth.

She heard Thor’s words and slowly comprehended their meaning. Queen Frigga was dead. Her heart instantly flooded with concern for Loki. Even if he did not recall, she remembered late nights when the two of them would talk with one another. Sometimes, if they had enjoyed too much ale, the conversations would veer into the territory of their families.

Loki had not been overly eager to share in this topic, and that suited Amora fine because she rarely spoke of her own family. And yet, they had talked to each other. She knew how much Thor meant to Loki, and how much it had hurt him to see his brother go. She knew how much Loki adored his mother. And she knew how much he longed for the approval and praise of Odin; she knew that deep down Loki loved his adoptive father.

The revelation of his heritage had broken him in so many ways. His love for his brother had turned into resentment. His love for his father had turned into hatred and a righteous sense of betrayal. But his love for his mother had remained. Even if Frigga had known, even if Loki put up the pretense of being angry with her, too, Amora knew that Frigga held a special place in his heart.

Watching him as the words tore through him was heartbreaking. She wanted to reach out for him, but she stopped herself. Those days had passed; she no longer had any right to attempt to comfort him, no right to hold him in her arms. So instead she stood and watched as his barely maintained composure ruptured. Icy blue began to move swiftly up his arms. She could smell the change in the air; feel the magic and its chill.

And she realized, as the scent of ice and winter reached her that she could not let him do this. For so long he had been the villain, but she remembered a time before that. Everyone else seemed to have forgotten; she supposed that the people of Midgard had never seen any other version of him. But once upon a time he had simply been mischievous. There had always been a knowing glint in his eyes and a playful smirk pulling at his lips. Sadly, that man was gone. In a way, she supposed she was partially to blame for that. He had been so damaged when they began their misguided affair, and she had done nothing but exacerbate the anger that burned him. Now, she realized that if she failed to intervene, he would only have all the more reason to hate himself. He was already so broken; he already felt so much loathing towards himself.

So she reached forward. She braced herself for the bone-chilling cold she knew would come from touching his skin. And yet, as she touched the blue skin of his wrist, it didn’t burn painfully as she had expected. The sensation sent a jolt through her, and she looked up to meet crimson eyes. Her breath caught in her throat. She knew that he had thought she was horrified when she first saw him transformed. In a sense she had been, but she had also been entranced. He was a beautiful man in his Asgardian form, but when he stood in front of her like this, he was absolutely breathtaking.

Torment still stained his eyes, but slowly she watched them soften as they focused on her own. Slowly, she watched everything else slip away until it was just the two of them; the way it was supposed to be, the way it once had been. She smiled softly at him, reaching up to touch his face with her free hand. He seemed taken aback by the contact, but he didn’t protest or pull away. She rose onto her toes, pausing for just a moment.

“ _Være stadig min ravn_.”

* * *

 

_Trickster_

He could not quite process what was happeneing. It did not make sense to him. Yet, here he stood, separated from Amora by mere breaths. And then she was whispering to him, but he did not even have a moment to process her words before he felt her lips ghosting over his cheek.

His head was spinning. Distantly, he felt the ice receding from his skin. He could not understand why she was doing this. But, those thoughts did not plague him long.

When she pulled away the figure behind them came into focus. Everything rushed back to him. Suddenly, the sweetness of the moment soured. Paranoia rose up in him as he watched Thor regarding Amora with shock, and then she turned slightly, sidling up against Loki. Yet, it didn’t feel right as it should; it felt like a serpent circling him before the fatal bite. This had all been a ruse, hadn’t it? Perhaps she was simply aiming to make Thor jealous. The motive did not much matter. The whispers were back in full force telling him that she was false, that she did not care for him. They swelled up until he could not ignore the din any longer.

' _You are nothing more than a monster. Fool, no one could ever love you! She is not honest, she uses your feelings against you. You must be stronger than this; you are always so weak_!’

”Lady Amora...” Thor seemed at a loss for words.

Loki stood miserably; he felt a bone-deep sense of failure, the familiar depression coming along to wrap him in its cloak of darkness. Once again, he was staring into the abyss. But the whispers would not let the fight be won that easily. They continued to tell him terrible things, to stoke the embers of the fire that had raged so ferociously only moments before. Neither side prevailed, and he was left standing there trapped in his own mind.

”Yes, I suppose it is simply Lady again,” Amora said next to him with a smile.

The words hit nerve inside Loki, and the whispers gleefully pounced on the phrasing of Amora’s words. He felt himself slipping again, and a wave of desperation began to well pathetically in his chest. But all of that was suddenly cut short when the grass around them began violently trembling and the earth seemed to rumble.

Looking up, Loki saw the source of the disruption. One of SHIELD’s flying machines hovered over them, slowly descending.

”I told you!” Loki heard Stark hissing.

Any response that he received was drowned out by the engine noise. The group stood silently, waiting for SHIELD agents to emerge from the now grounded aircraft. Soon enough, a hatch opened up and two agents disembarked: Romanoff and Barton.

”Nice of you guys to show up, but the show’s over now,” Stark snarked.

”We’re not here for you guys,” Barton said moving purposefully towards Loki and Amora.

”So what are you here for? Did SHIELD send you?” Stark questioned.

Clint shot him a look, ”Duh.”

”I don't suppose you care to share what exactly is going on here?” Stark crossed his arms over his chest.

”Stark,” Romanoff’s tone would have silenced most men, _most_ men.

”No! I think we deserve some answers! It’s obvious that SHIELD is up to their necks in this shit, and I for one would like to know exactly what _this shit_ is!” Stark exclaimed.

Barton rolled his eyes as he fastened Amora’s cuffs back onto her wrists.

”These prisoners are here by orders of SHIELD. That’s all you get to know, Stark,” Romaoff said.

”So SHIELD is using _villains_ to do their dirty work now?” Stark asked.

”In a manner of speaking, that is exactly what they are doing,” Loki muttered.

Barton glared so hard at him, that Loki honestly thought the man might rupture one of his delicate human veins.

”How does that even make sense?” Stark’s tone was bordering on hysterical.

”Stark has a point,” the man called Falcon said, ”That is literally the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. I mean, these guys are the loosest of loose cannons. How does that even work?”

Loki felt a sense of dread at the glint that suddenly sprung into Barton’s eyes. Sure enough, he was almost immediately knocked to his knees in agonizing pain. Since his cuffs had been reattached and activated, he couldn’t even clutch at his head so he was forced to resort to writhing ungracefully on the grass.

”Brother!” Thor gasped.

The pain mercifully ceased. Loki was left gasping on the ground with the taste of blood on his tongue and an overwhelming nausea within his stomach. He was not about to give Barton the satisfaction of seeing him wretch all over himself. So he simply lay on the ground, curled in on himself. At least the whispers had been silenced.

”So you torture them to keep them in line?” Loki couldn’t quite discern who the words originated from.

A hint of irritation had crept back into Barton’s voice, ”Look, we don’t have time for this right now. There has been a breach of security at SHIELD Pen, and we need to get these guys back there ASAP.”

”Well then, we better get going,” Stark’s tone held a hint of a challenge.

”Nice try, Stark, but this one isn’t on you,” Barton replied as he shuffled Loki and Amora towards the aircraft. The Captain was already seated inside with a mournful expression on his face. Loki had honestly forgotten all about the Capatin, but at least the man appeared to be in one piece. Well, physically anyway.

”Like hell it isn’t on us!” Stark retorted.

Barton and Romanoff exchanged a loaded look, ”Director’s orders, Tash,” Barton shrugged.

”The Director’s dead,” Natasha said, never breaking eye contact.

”Wait, _what_?!” Stark and Falcon’s words ran together as they both spoke at once.

Barton glared at Romanoff who remained unflinching, simply raising her eyebrow in response to his unspoken rebuke. Loki decided that he quite liked Romanoff. He realized belatedly that she reminded him of Amora.

”Fine, just hurry up!” Barton threw his hands in the air.

Stark was already pushing the group around, ”Glad we got that settled. Now, where the hell is Lang?”

Everyone looked around, matching mystified expressions on their faces. Loki could feel Amora’s eyes on him, and soon enough he could feel Thor’s, too. It didn’t take long before everyone had caught on and they were all looking at him with expressions varying from irritation and disbelief to anger and disgust.

He sighed gustily, ”What? He was impeding my ability to fight the enemy.”

”Brother, what did you do?”

”Did you _kill_ him?!”

Loki cut off any further questions, ”I simply rearranged his features a bit.”

”Well why don’t you rearrange them back to normal so we can get a move on?” Falcon said.

Loki merely raised his cuffed wrists slightly in response.

Romanoff strode forward and removed the cuffs without a word.

Loki was too tired for this. But he obliged the others and summoned his magic. In a flash of green light, the man called Lang reappeared a few feet away from them looking rather bewildered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My computer's doing this weird thing with the quotation marks in Word, so that's why some of them are in the wrong direction. 
> 
> Amora says: "Be still my raven." Apologies if the translation is off! :)


	23. All Fall Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chaos has taken over SHIELD Pen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took far longer than intended to get posted (writer's block is a real bitch). Anyway, here it is and apologies for the wait between chapters!

**LOCATION: NEW YORK CITY**

_Captain_

It was pure chaos when they returned. All around them screams, crashes, and shots filled the air. They were almost immediately swept up in the tide of the pandemonium. Prisoners were swarming around, loosed from their cells. SHIELD agents were engaging the prisoners, firing shots from seemingly every direction. But still, Steve could see that SHIELD was not winning this fight.

When they had arrived, the three Avengers in the jet had split up apparently forgetting all about their charges. Although, Barton tuned back as the other two raced ahead to glare at them and tell them to stay put. That had been at least half an hour ago. Steve didn’t know what was going on inside the building, but if the commotion outside was any indication it couldn’t be good. He had briefly glimpsed Iron Man and Thor fighting the escapees outside.

He hadn’t ever actually seen the building where he had been imprisoned. It was surprisingly benign from the outside. Well, at least, he supposed that it would be if it weren’t for the violent mass escape that was currently taking place. There was no sign of any other buildings no matter what direction he looked in, so he wasn’t sure where the prisoners were planning to go. That wasn’t his problem, though.

Left sitting in the awkwardly silent jet, Steve found himself running out of things to distract him from his own thoughts. Unfortunately Loki and Amora both wore distant expressions that deterred any thoughts of conversation. Not that it really mattered; Steve had no idea what he would possibly talk to them about anyway. And so, left to his own mind, thoughts flooded him.

Was this Red Skull behind this? So far he hadn’t noticed any of his known associates yet, but they didn’t have a great view. The bigger question was if Red Skull was behind this, then was Bucky here? Just thinking it hurt him. If Bucky was here, it wasn’t really him; it was one hundred percent Winter Soldier. Steve could remember another time when he had lost Bucky to the Winter Soldier. It had taken him so long to get even a sliver of his Bucky back. But this time, it was even worse. He didn’t exactly have the means to get Bucky away from Red Skull with his hands tied the way they were by SHIELD. If he was going to save Bucky he needed to get them both as far away from SHIELD and Red Skull as he possibly could, but he didn’t see a scenario where that happened.

" _Loki_!”

The panicked words pulled Steve out of his head. His head snapped in Amora’s direction just in time to see a flash of blue racing out of view.

* * *

_Trickster_

He had sat still for long enough. When he heard the anguished cry from the battle below he could not sit still any longer. Something inside of him that had been locked away was suddenly jarred out of its hiding place. 

It was surprising how easily the change came to him, but he was only distantly aware of that thought as he sprang to action. The ice was not dampened by SHIELD’s restraints, and he watched as they shattered like glass. Amora’s voice registered with him; he heard the plea in the single word. But it didn’t matter; he didn’t even know who Loki was anymore. Right now he was someone else, something else.  But maybe, just this once, he wasn't the monster that his skin suggested.  Maybe this time he would not play the part of the villain.

Looking down over the edge of the roof, he could see the source of the sound that had jarred him so. Fury welled up in his belly, and he could feel the ice surging through his veins. The red tinge to the world around him only fueled his wild anger. Without another moment’s hesitation, he jumped.

When his feet hit the pavement below, he felt a curl of satisfaction as the individual directly in front of him whirled around. He felt his lips pull back in a feral imitation at a grin. Even though the man wore a mask, his fear was evident. There was almost a palpable scent in the air that reeked of it.

It did not take long for his foe to fall. One strategically placed shot of ice pierced his throat like a dagger, and he fell to the ground. Behind him, the fallen form of another drew his attention. The red tint of his vision couldn’t hide the obvious pain the man was in; if anything, it intensified his awareness of it.

Thor lay on the ground, breathing hard. There was blood pooling around his head, and though it was hidden now there was another wound on his gut concealed by one of his giant hands. He watched as the injured man turned to look at him. Although he had expected to see fear, hatred, or disgust he saw none of those things. Instead, Thor smiled weakly at him, ''Brother,” he whispered.

In a flash, the ice was gone. He knelt down in front of his brother, he forgot to think of him as anything else, his magic no longer hampered by those horrid cuffs. Healing magic flowed through his palms into Thor below him. His brother’s Aesir blood and build aided the healing process, and it didn’t take long for the wounds to knit back together, disappearing as if they had never existed at all.

"Bro- _Loki_ ,” Thor paused, ”You saved my life. Thank you!”

Loki was taken aback by the force of Thor’s embrace. And yet, he didn’t feel inclined to pull back. Right now, he could pretend that everything was as it should be. He could pretend that Thor was his blood, and he could pretend that they still loved one another as they always had. It was a fantasy that he needed so badly in that moment.  He was never the hero, but just this once he wished more than anything to pretend otherwise.

It couldn’t last of course. All around them fighting continued. Loki was the first to pull away. He felt a wave of disgust and shame wash over him.  This moment was stolen, and he had no right to claim it.  His stomach soured as he turned away.

"My team,” Loki gestured vaguely in the direction he had come from.

He felt one of Thor’s large, warm hands clap him on the shoulder, and he cringed.  He hoped it was not overly obvious; after all, Thor was not the one he was disgusted with.  But he needn't have worried because the sound of lightning indicated Thor’s return to the fight.

* * *

 

_Captain_

It all happened so fast. One minute Loki was gone. He and Amora were exchanging horrified looks. Then there had been the sound of boots approaching. Bucky, no he wasn’t Bucky anymore; the Winter Soldier appeared stalking towards them. Loki reappeared on the roof standing between the open door of the jet and the Winter Soldier.

He had barely even had time to process the movement, it was so quick. But the wet sound of a blade being retracted erased any trace of doubt and left him feeling cold. Loki staggered to the side. Amora leapt from her seat, screaming incoherently. She had been going to hurt him, and he didn’t even think he just jumped out of his own seat and tackled her.

Then they were all three on the ground. When he looked up, the cold-eyed predator was gone, vanished once again. Amora was railing against him. He was laying on his back, cracking his head against the cement. Stars danced around Amora as she leaned over Loki. There was blood. Steve didn’t remember anything else.

* * *

 

_Trickster_

It hurt. That was all he could think as he lay on the ground blinking at he sky. His head felt strangely empty, and his body felt distant. He knew he was bleeding, and he knew it was bad. But he truly did not care. Even as he felt the warmth of blood seeping from his abdomen, panic did not come.

He realized he could not feel anything below his hips, but even that caused him no concern. The pain was excruciating, but it was also strangely far away from him. His frazzled mind was intact enough for him to realize that something was very wrong and that the pain he felt was very real. Still, an alternating wave of warmth and chill swept over him chasing away his train of thought.

The last thought that he grabbed at told him not to close his eyes. So he continued to blink stupidly at the sky. But the heat, no the cold, was pulling at him. And he could hear the whispers, but this time it was a voice filled with love. This time it was his mother telling him that it would be alright. Loki believed her, and he smiled softly as he let his eyes drop shut.


	24. Toxic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team rushes to help Loki.

**LOCATION: SHIELD MAXIMUM SECURITY PENITENTIARY**

_Enchantress_

She felt so helpless staring down at Loki’s unconscious form as blood seeped from his insides. The wound should not be enough to kill him, but he wasn’t healing like he should. And she was stuck in SHIELD’s blasted cuffs, her magic inaccessible. Leaning over him to better hear his shallow breaths, Amora’s heart froze. This close, she could smell something foul. This was no ordinary knife wound. There was a sinister force at work inside of Loki's prone body.  This was the odor of truly dark magic.

Amora fell back on her heels making a frustrated noise. How had that mortal gotten his hands on such potent magics? Perhaps if she could access her own powers she could suss out more about the poison in Loki’s blood. As it was, she was left hovering next to Loki, powerless and alone.

_Alone_. The thought jarred her memory. She spun around, seeking the Captain. Although she was angry with him for thwarting her attempts to attack the Winter Soldier, she knew deep down that he had likely saved her from a fate similar to Loki’s. Her eyes fell on blond hair resting against the rooftop behind her. It would seem that he had hit his head and fallen unconscious; mortals were so very fragile.

So it seemed that she was, in fact, alone. Was it always to end this way for her? Whenever Loki was involved, it seemed that she ended up by herself in the end. Asgard, Midgard, it didn’t matter; she followed him through the realms just to be deserted.

Refusing to pity herself, Amora rose from the ground. She schooled her expression into unmovable steel. This time, she would not fail him. There were other people here, and there was at least one person who loved Loki as much as she did. She would find Thor, and somehow they would save Loki.

* * *

 

_Trickster_

Even in his state of semi-awareness, Loki knew that his wound should not still be hurting. A wound to the gut was nothing. His magic should have sewn it shut by now. Yet, he could still feel the void; he could still feel cold air inside of him where it should never reach. When he attempted to call his magic to the surface his body rebelled violently. He was sick, the bile burning like fire and a matching echo searing through his veins.

He was fully awake now, and gasping for breath that he could not seem to catch. The pain was nearly unbearable, the likes of which he had not experienced in some time. _But_... He had felt it or, at the very least, something eerily similar before. Horror and panic gripped him in equal parts.

He could feel it rushing through his bloodstream. Inside of him, there was a war being fought. How in the Nine had this happened? Vaguely he recalled steel gray eyes glaring at him. That could not possibly be accurate, though. There was no possible way that a mere mortal could have acquired this.

His already strained heart beat even faster. He was going to die, and he was _scared_. When that had changed, he was unsure, but he was sure that he did not want to perish. Not now. And yet, he seemed to be in an impossible bind. Pulling at his magic only made things worse. So essentially, he was without his powers, he could not move, and he also seemed to have been abandoned. He supposed it was his proper comeuppance. You did not walk away from the things that he had seen and done without paying penance.

Despite the fact that he knew better, Loki tugged at the threads of his magic desperately with all of the strength he could summon. This time an involuntary scream of pain caused him to choke on the resulting bile. The pain engulfed him completely in its vengeful fire, and he burned.

. . .

"Hurry!”

"I am trying! It is not working!”

Loki could dimly hear movement around him. There were agitated voices speaking, but he could not be bothered to pair them with names or faces.

"I think he’s awake again, you guys.”

"Thor! I can heal myself, just do it. Time is of the essence!”

Someone huffed out a frustrated sigh, and then there was silence lulling Loki back into its haze. A sickening crack, a sharp inhale, a horrified gasp, and all three repeated once more.

" _Jesus Christ_.”

"Are you alright? I am sorry, my lady.”

"I am perfectly fine,” a familiar smell reached Loki’s nostrils. It smelled like home.

There was scuffling, and murmured words. Suddenly, he could feel a delicious warmth over his abdomen. He drew in a gasp that stung against his ragged throat. Just as soon as the pleasurable sensation had hit him he was abruptly wracked with agonizing pain. Someone was screaming, a terrible keening sound.

"Hold on, _mine ravn_.” He tried to listen to the voice. Somehow he knew it was addressed to him. Perhaps if he tried he could even put together who it was that spoke. But his faculties were quickly failing him, and with one last gasp he was gone again.

* * *

 

_Captain_

Steve had elected not to watch the two Asgardians attempts to remove the cuffs around Amora’s wrists. Each of their suggested potential solutions made his stomach turn. So, in favor of not throwing up violently, Steve had chosen to simply close his eyes. Unfortunately, that did not block out the sounds. He grimaced at the noises that he heard. When it was blessfully quiet, Steve breathed a sigh of relief.

Immediately Thor began apologizing profusely, but as Steve glanced over Amora’s bones were already reforming. One delicate wrist, followed by a hand, and then the process repeated on the other side. She brushed Thor away impatiently, gold already tinging the air around Loki’s prone form. Loki gasped, and Steve winced at the painful sound it made only to be reminded of the throbbing in his own skull.

With a yelp, Amora pulled back her hands as if they had been scalded. Below her Loki began to make an animalistic noise, his body trembling. The terrible wailing finally ceased, and Amora’s curses could be heard in the resulting silence.

"How did he get his hands on something like this?” she muttered.

Steve grimaced, shrinking further away from the scene. He knew she was referring to Bucky, or at least the monster running around wearing Bucky’s skin. Just thinking his name made Steve want to throw up, or cry, or scream, or maybe all of the above. His head pounded angrily, reminding him of his prior foolish actions. He hadn’t been thinking; he’d seen the intent in Amora’s eyes and just reacted. It didn’t matter now, anyway. Probably, if Bucky’d stuck around they would all be dying on the ground, knife wounds slowly killing them.

Feeling eyes on him Steve looked up, his skin suddenly hot. Amora and Thor were both staring at him, and he thought that he had never felt smaller. He swallowed hard, unsure what they wanted from him. Perhaps they were considering what way to dispatch Steve; he’d probably committed some heinous offense by tackling Amora earlier.

" _Steven_!” Amora’s voice snapped against his skin like a taut rubber band. "Can you hear me?”

"Yes,” Steve croaked.

Amora’s nostrils flared and she took a deep breath before speaking again, "Is this Red Skull of yours some sort of sorcerer? You never mentioned it before,” her latter words held an accusation.

"What?” Steve said stupidly, his mind struggling to keep up, "A sorcerer?”

"That is what I said,” Amora blew out an exasperated breath, ”I cannot imagine how else your lover could have come to possess such a powerful potion. So tell me, what sort of sorcery does this nemesis of yours practice?”

Another blush heated his face at the word lover, which always managed to sound obscene to him. But his thoughts were quickly redirected to Amora’s other insinuation. She thought that Red Skull was a _sorcerer_? Steve’s head really hurt.

"Red Skull isn’t a sorcerer,” he knew he must sound as confused as he felt, "I don’t know any sorcerers besides you and Loki.”

Amora looked like she wanted to say something more, but she simply huffed and turned back to Loki. He didn’t miss the muffled curse of ' _ignorant mortals_ ’. Soon enough, though, Steve could hear her murmuring words in that language she and Loki sometimes used with one another.

"This should not be possible,” she shook her head. "I do not believe that the Scarlet Witch could possibly have the power or knowledge to produce this. So where did that mortal get it?”

Steve looked up, startled by the sound of metal meeting the cement. Tony Stark, Iron Man, was approaching them. His faceplate covered him, and Steve shuddered internally.  Just what they needed: the fucking robot man.

"Hey Thor, what’s going on up here?” Stark asked.

"My brother has been hit by a magical poison,” Thor sounded so mournful and resigned.

Stark paused, but only for a moment before he continued forward. Amora looked up suspiciously, clearly not liking how close the man was coming to her patient. But as Steve watched the tense interaction, Stark raised his hands to signify he meant them no harm.

"What’s the poison doing to him?” Stark looked to Amora for an answer.

"It is attacking the magic within him and inhibiting his healing abilities.”

"Okay,” Stark seemed to consider this, "Is his magic located in any particular part of his body? Like, is the poison attacking any particular organs, or his bones, or brain, or...?” Stark trailed off, leaving the question hanging in the air.

Amora pursed her lips before responding, "I suppose the closest thing that your mortal medicine could comprehend is that it is in many ways a poison to the blood.”

Stark nodded thoughtfully before turning to regard the other two men on the roof in turn. It was unsettling, not being able to see the human beneath the mask. His gaze seemingly returned to Amora before he spoke again, "Do they have medical facilities here?”

Amora nodded. She remained silent, but Steve could see the slight spark of hope she was attempting to hide.

Finally Stark spoke, "We need to get him to medical, but it’s a fucking mess down there. Even if we get to the infirmary, there’s no guarantee that things will be intact.”

And so the five of them made their way to the entrance that Stark directed them to. Amora insisted that she be the one to carry Loki. Steve smiled privately, enjoying her firey determination. Thor and Stark finally relented; Thor took longer to convince than Stark, Steve noted.

They got into the prison easily enough, Romanoff helpfully distracting the resistance that they met outside the entrance. Once inside, they had made their way into the bowels of the underground facility before encountering a couple of SHIELD agents fighting a trio of prisoners. Thor left their party, telling them to move ahead as he assisted the agents.

The three of them, plus their patient, crawled carefully through the hallway. As they passed through one of the seemingly endless cell blocks, Steve heard a noise from within one of the cells. He debated for a second before a second whimper came from the darkened cell. Stepping cautiously, Steve peered into the space. Inside, a woman was hunched against the wall. Suspicion tugged at his lips, pulling them into a frown. He motioned for the others to continue; he would take care of this, whatever it was.

As the others disappeared down the corridor, Steve approached the opening of the cell. But when he looked down, the woman was gone. Confused, Steve spun on his heel trying to spot her. He really hoped he wasn’t hallucinating now, on top of everything else.

He wasn’t quite quick enough to dodge the roundhouse kick, a foot colliding hard against his temple. The strength behind the blow, combined with the surprise caused Steve to stagger with stars spotting his vision for a moment. Even as he recovered, he found himself clumsily blocking another hit.

A rough gasp was aborted as the woman once again attacked. Suddenly, Steve found himself with a pair of powerful thighs wrapped like a vise around his neck. He choked as his air supply abruptly diminished. It would be fine; he could hold his breath longer than most people, but he didn’t want to test his limits.

He had no idea who this woman was, but it was clear that she was not an average human. Even in the dim lighting, he could see the muscles bulging under her standard-issue SHIELD jumpsuit. Thick strawberry blonde hair obscured her face, but he doubted he would have recognized her anyway. This was certainly an inconvenience. Steve hadn’t planned for encountering a super-strong inmate lurking in the shadows of the ruined prison cells.

"Well, well, well. Looks like you finally found someone your own size to tangle with. What will your husband say?” Someone else, a man, tsked.

"Do I know you?” the woman growled. There were the sounds of struggle, and suddenly Steve could breathe again. He took a second to suck in as much air as he possibly could before turning to see the woman passed out on the ground. Hopefully she wasn’t dead, but then again Steve really didn’t know if he cared one way or another.

"You’re welcome, pal! I accept cash, check, or PayPal! Now if you’ll excuse me, duty calls. And by duty I mean the nearest Mexican joint.” With an incredibly messy salute, the strange man was gone.

Steve simply stared at the mottled skin on the back of the retreating man’s head. He briefly entertained the thought of going after him, but pulled a face. That stranger had saved him, and Steve honestly hoped that he successfully escaped this hell-hole. Fuck SHIELD! Not all of the prisoners here were irredeemable monsters. A rare smile, seemingly at odds with his surroundings, briefly flashed across his face before he continued down the hallway.


	25. Dead Men Walking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Renegades continue to navigate the prison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo..... I didn't originally intend for this to be a series, but ya know. The plot has changed slightly and because of that, a series it shall be - probably two or three fics altogether, in case anyone was wondering:-)   
> Anyway, thanks for reading!

**LOCATION: SHIELD MAXIMUM SECURITY PENITENTIARY**

_Trickster_

A hazy sense of awareness washed over him. For a moment he simply relaxed allowing himself to slowly come into wakefulness. But then he remembered. Strangely, he could not feel the searing pain in his blood anymore. He froze. Was he dead?

Panic surged through him. He couldn’t be dead! He needed to warn Amora, warn all of them. They needed to be prepared! He needed to make them understand.

Upon first inspection of his body, he could not locate his magic. He frowned and tried again, reaching deeper this time. Still, there was nothing. A sort of hollow echo was all that he could find. Loki was confused; he didn’t understand what this was. Did he lose his magic to Death?

"Loki?” Loki turned his head to see Amora and the Man of Iron standing at his bedside. Well, this was certainly odd. He could understand his mind conjuring Amora in death, but he had no idea why Stark would be there.

"How you feelin’?” Stark asked.

"I-,” Loki did not really know what he wanted to say.

His aborted attempt at speaking seemed to serve as a signal to Amora. In a few swift steps she was at his side. She raised her hands, running them over him in seemingly random paths. Loki watched quietly as the gold light emanated from her palms.

"Loki.” The tone of Amora’s voice called his attention to her face. She looked confused and distressed, which did not seem to bode well for his condition.

"Am I alive?” Loki finally asked.

"Yup,” Stark answered this question.

Loki sighed and nodded, "That explains why _you’re_ here then.”

He felt cool air on his abdomen, and he gasped at the pain when the air collided with the gaping wound on his stomach. The sight was horrifying, blood trails covering his torso and staining his clothing. Why was he not healed? A single stab wound, administered by a mortal no less, should have healed rather quickly. Loki turned to Amora with an inquiring look.

Amora smiled, but it seemed unstable, as though she couldn’t summon the strength to hold it in place. Her reaction left him feeling even more uncertain. What exactly was going on?

"Loki,” Amora breathed out his name, ”Your magic... _It’s gone_.”

* * *

 

_Enchantress_

"What do you mean gone?” Loki replied slowly.

Amora frowned, her eyes darting over Loki’s body again as if his magic were simply hiding in a fold in his clothing. Finally she looked up at Loki’s face. She could see the fear in his eyes. It hurt her to see him like this, so weak. When she looked back up to meet his gaze, she hardened her own expression, so that he would not see any of his alarm mirrored in her face.

"Your magic is gone, Loki. I do not understand it. Whatever that poison was, it seems that it took your magic from you. It probably will only be temporary,” Amora’s voice stumbled a little bit on the last sentence despite her efforts to hold it steady.

Her eyes traced over his figure, settling on the large stain of blood on his lower abdomen. Realization struck her suddenly; _he wouldn’t be able to heal himself_. Amora steeled herself to see the wound, no doubt horrific against Loki’s normally smooth and pale flesh. She attempted to offer him a small smile of reassurance before moving to lift his shirt to reveal the gash beneath.

It was just as awful as she had imagined. Certainly, in the grand scheme of things, it was not that terrible of a wound. She and Loki both had seen far worse, but it mocked her in the way it remained ugly and bloody and so obviously painful. Her eyes darted up, seeking Loki’s in hopes of reassuring him. But when their eyes met Amora was taken aback by the terror she saw there. His eyes were focused on something just behind her.

Amora began to turn around in confusion when she felt the blow. It knocked her down immediately, and left her on the floor in a daze. The last thing that she saw were a pair of fathomless obsidian eyes looming over her.

* * *

 

_Captain_

The tunnels of the prison were admittedly unfamiliar to him. He felt as though he had been walking through an impossible labyrinth for hours. After the altercation that separated him from the others, he had set off in the direction he had seen them disappear. Unfortunately, it seemed that he was not going to find them.

Honestly, he really didn’t like being down here. It wasn’t that he was afraid of the dark, but he also didn’t have a death wish, and this place was straight out of a fucking horror movie. He’d seen enough of those in his day to know that he was particularly vulnerable wandering lost and alone through unfamiliar territory. And that was the other thing; he hadn’t seen _anything_ that he recognized. Maybe he needed to revisit the possibility that he was literally losing his mind.

He wished that Bucky was with him. Bucky would know how to ease the tension that Steve was feeling. Back when they’d spent late nights that they were supposed to be asleep watching horror movies, Bucky had always given Steve shit for being scared. More than once, Bucky had hidden from Steve and jumped out nearly causing Steve to have a heart attack. The thought brought a smile to his face, though it disappeared quickly. Because the thought that Bucky might be hiding in the shadows somewhere just waiting for Steve to pass by so he could jump out was not an appealing prospect.

The sound of heavy footsteps broke through Steve’s thoughts. With a sense of foreboding, he ducked into an open cell. He held his breath as the steps came closer, and then a face appeared peering into the cell where Steve had thought he was hidden.

"Jesus Christ!” Steve nearly jumped out of his skin at the completely unexpected sight of Thor.

"Ah, Captain! I have found you,” Thor sounded pleased and unaware of the heart attack he had nearly caused.

Steve took a deep breath, closing his eyes for just a moment before offering Thor a weak smile.

"Have you seen any of our companions?” Thor asked.

Steve ran his palm over the back of his neck and shook his head. He’d been hoping that Thor knew where the others were, but apparently that was not the case. Well, at least he wasn’t alone anymore. Guys who looked like Thor generally did pretty well for themselves in horror movies, and Steve could use all the luck he could get.

* * *

 

_Winter Soldier_

Everything was going well. Their enemies had fallen into every trap. They were like sheep blindly racing towards the slaughter. And there was one sheep in particular that he had been promised. But, he sighed as he remembered, he was not allowed to kill his quarry. No, the Red Army needed this one. For what, he did not know; he did not ask. It was not the Soldier’s place to ask questions.

Word had come through only a few moments earlier that the sorcerer, the male, had been neutralized and collected. This would make the General very happy. Again, the Soldier did not ask what the General needed the alien being for. Although, he had overheard some talk and knew that the creature was important.

 _Soon_. The thought brought a tiny smile to his face, which he allowed only because there was no one around to see it. He could therefore afford to indulge in this small luxury. Soon it would be time for their fight, and this time there would be a fight. But it would not be a fight that the Captain would win. Not this time.


	26. To the Slaughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor, Amora, and Steve band together to find Loki.

**LOCATION: SHIELD MAXIMUM SECURITY PENITENTIARY**

_Enchantress_

Amora woke with a sharp gasp of air. She looked around her frantically, trying to recall what had occurred. Above her she could see the empty hospital cot, sheets rumpled and bloody. A sick feeling crawled up her throat as she remembered. Loki had been poisoned, and they had been bringing him to the healing rooms of the prison. Thor and Steven had been waylaid along the journey leaving her, Loki, and the Man of Iron. Except it had not been the true Avenger. Black, soulless eyes flashed tauntingly in her mind.

"Lady Amora!” Thor’s booming voice caused Amora to wince slightly. She looked over to see Thor and Steven watching her.

"Nice of you two to show up. Unfortunately, you are a bit late,” Amora glared.

"What happened?” Steven was looking at her with concern written plainly over his features. He cared. Well, that was rather flattering.

"Loki,” Amora pursed her lips, ”His magic is gone. And the Man of Iron- it was not the true Man of Iron. It was,” she gestured vaguely in the air, ”Some manner of demon. Its eyes were black. Completely black.”

Steven sucked in a breath audibly. Amora knew that he recognized the description. Loki had encountered a similar creature on their first mission together. She didn’t miss the panicked look on Steven’s face as he quickly looked to Thor’s eyes as if they might have suddenly turned black while he wasn’t looking.

"I do not understand. That was Stark. I heard him speak, and his armor-,” Thor broke off.

"It is a near perfect physical imitation,” Amora replied. ”Loki once confronted a beast akin to this one, and even he was tricked by it.”

"No, that cannot be,” Thor frowned. ”This beast, he encountered it _here_? On Midgard?”

"Yes,” Amora replied.

"Well then, we must find my brother!” Thor said.

"Thor...” Steven seemed unsure of how to continue his sentence.

Amora took up his slack, struggling to keep her voice steady, "Thor, I am not sure we will be able to find him. When first he battled one of these monsters, he very nearly did not prevail. If the Winter Soldier had not found them when he did,” Amora shrugged, unable to meet Thor’s eyes, "Without his powers, I fear it may be too late to intervene.”

"We must try!” Thor declared without hesitation, his expression only becoming more determined.

* * *

 

_Captain_

They had found Amora pale and frantic. She immediately informed them about what had happened. Loki had lost his magic, and he’d been kidnapped by one of Red Skull’s black-eyed doppelgangers. So that meant that Red Skull had his own army, and if Steve was right then these doubles would be a real challenge for the Avengers to overcome. This certainly changed things.

He looked back and forth between the two blonde Asgardians. Thor had helped Amora to her feet, and they were now standing side by side, their eyes seemingly in different worlds. Standing together like that, Steve could see their warrior heritage. The two of them looked formidable enough on their own, but together he was pretty sure they could destroy anything they set their minds to.

Sighing, Steve rubbed his hand along the back of his neck. They needed to get out of this damn prison. If Red Skull and his minions were going to take Loki somewhere, it would likely be outside of this godforsaken underground hell. That train of thought left him with an idea. It wasn’t much by way of plans, but he didn’t hear the others offering anything better.

'We should go to the roof,” Steve said.

The others focused on Steve, their expressions considering. Amora’s gaze quickly returned to the ground as she worried her teeth against her bottom lip. Thor turned his head to Amora, as if deferring to her to make the decision. Finally, Amora nodded. She looked up slowly, meeting Steve’s eyes and nodded again more emphatically. Steve nodded in response and turned to lead the way.

. . .

All around them, the corridors smelled heavily of death and destruction. It was no less horror movie-like going through it the second time. He still noticed the awful odor, the eerie silence, and the more physical marks of what had happened. His boot made an unpleasant squelching sound as he stepped in something that he did not want to consider too deeply. Death never became any easier to stomach, but he had seen so much of it by now that he had learned to push it down and let the numbness take over. That was what allowed him to remain strong, leading the two Asgardian warriors through the dark underground passages. There was no point in dwelling on what was done. War was a bloody business. And what was this, if not war?

Steve could feel the sweat at his temples, and a cold trickle sliding down his back as they approached the roof. He could feel the tension of his two companions, it mirrored his own. They were all apprehensive for obvious reasons, but there was no point in putting it off. So, Steve pushed open the hatch.

* * *

 

_Enchantress_

It happened so fast. One minute they were pressed together in the relative darkness, the next they were confronted by the fading sunlight. The hatch that accessed the roof was rather inconveniently placed; it didn’t afford them a clear view of what they were walking into. Amora did not like it. A strong feeling of impending danger flooded through her.

She was just about to warn the men, but she quickly realized that it was no use. In quiet horror, she watched Thor being taken down by his double with the black eyes. Amora turned to Steven in horror, but did not see him next to her where she had expected him to be. Frantically, she spun around trying to spot him.

And there he was: standing just a few feet away from her and Thor. Why was Steven not helping? It was probably destined to be a losing battle, but she had never known Steven to not jump into battle. She caught Steven’s eyes her gaze filled with fear and confusion. His eyes were stony and unreadable, and suddenly she understood. Amora struggled to compute what was happening.

But then a voice said, 'Captain Rogers.” And when Amora looked to its source she slowly began to understand just how foolish she had been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 0_0


	27. Saints & Sinners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things come to a head at SHIELD Pen.

**LOCATION: SHIELD MAXIMUM SECURITY PENITENTIARY**

_Enchantress_

"Captain?” Amora filled her voice with as much ice as she could manage. Every second more of her composure returned to her. This was something she could handle; this was something she knew.

To his credit the Captain’s face didn’t tip his hand at all. There was no remorse in his eyes, but there was also no pleasure. He looked blank; he looked like a soldier. So this was who he really was. Amora could admit that she had never quite figured him out. It had perplexed her how nice he was because it didn’t fit with what one would expect from one of Earth’s most-wanted criminals. Of course now she saw the act for what it had been. The more she thought about it, the angrier she became.

"I see,” Amora raised one eyebrow in a carefully calculated expression that usually left the receiver stuttering. "Congratulations, _Steven_ you fooled us.”

"I’m sorry, Amora,” his whisper was so breathy that she almost missed it.

She smirked venomously, "No, I do not believe that you are.”

Steven sighed, "You're right, I'm not," he looked steadily into her eyes.  "We’re not nice people, Amora. This is what we do; we gain trust and we break it.” The look in his eyes was a complicated mix of things: stoic and yet somehow slightly wistful.

"Indeed,” Amora replied, smiling softly at Steven. One corner of Steven’s mouth pulled down briefly, but he turned away quickly.

Amora watched as he walked towards the man who had called his name. She knew instantly that this was the infamous Red Skull. His visage was not something that she was likely to forget. Still, it pulled at her pride to watch the Captain walk so steadily and surely towards the monster whom he had so vehemently declared to be his enemy.

* * *

 

_Winter Soldier_

The Soldier watched as the three blondes emerged from within the prison to stand on the roof. He felt a sense of satisfaction as the large man with the hammer was incapacitated. But then things took a turn. The Soldier listened to the words exchanged between the woman and the Captain. They left him feeling off-balance, which was not a feeling that the Soldier liked.

He watched as the Captain turned away from the woman, leaving her to Scarlet Witch and the other soldiers. The Captain approached Red Skull openly and willingly. This did not make sense. Hadn’t the Soldier been told that the Captain was a hostile target that wouldn’t go without a fight?

"I got you what you wanted. Let him go,” the Captain was speaking to Red Skull.

Red Skull turned towards the Soldier and smiled. "Oh now, Captain, you didn’t really think it would be that easy. No, I think you will have to fight for him. After all, I promised him a fight.”

The Soldier felt the pull instantly. His entire body shifted, his mind went into the space reserved for hand-to-hand. He watched the Captain as Red Skull shoved him towards the Soldier. The look on the Captain’s face caught the Soldier’s attention, but only for a moment before instinct once again rose to the surface.

Soon enough the Captain was in front of him. The Soldier frowned slightly; this man didn’t look like he was going to fight at all. This caused anger to bubble through the Soldier’s blood. He would have his fight; this weak man would not deny him this again. With that thought, he lunged.

* * *

 

_Captain_

So, here it was. The moment he had been subconsciously waiting for. It was always going to come down to this, he supposed. He had known the risk he was taking. Red Skull had never been a trustworthy figure, so the fact that he was now changing the script wasn’t all that surprising. Instead, he just felt resigned. He was so tired of this game.

Honestly, he had probably been waiting for this for years. Ever since he had changed. Since _they_ had changed. It didn’t matter what he tried; Red Skull was always one step ahead of them. Steve had learned early on that nice guys didn’t last in this game. In that, Red Skull had gotten exactly what he wanted, Steve realized. He had gotten to the core of Steve and changed what had once been there.

Even when they were arrested, Steve should have known it wasn’t over. If he was honest, deep down inside he had known. It would never be over unless Red Skull died, but the monster seemed to have more lives than a cat. Still, he had tried the last thing he could think of aside from the unthinkable solution. He had allowed himself and Bucky to be caught and hauled in to SHIELD Pen. And yet, it hadn’t taken long for that safety net to disappear. He’d never figured out who the inside man was, but he suspected that the Winter Soldier had eliminated that loose end once Red Skull got what he wanted.

If he believed in fate, he thought that this must have always been theirs. After all, it had always been a fight for them: sickness, love, war... Of course it made sense that it would end in a fight. Happiness was not a luxury they would be afforded in this lifetime. Their story would be one of struggle, pain, sadness, and death. Love would be lost under the heavier things.

The Winter Soldier launched the first blow, and Steve let his instincts take over. On the inside, his mind was a mess. Everything was a mess, he’d fucked it all up even worse than it had been to start with. But that was his debt to pay, not Bucky’s.

Bucky couldn’t continue to suffer like this. He didn’t know much of anything anymore, but he knew that much with every fiber of his being.

* * *

 

 

_Enchantress_

Amora didn’t bother to fight them. Things needed to play out more fully before she could decide the best course of action. This situation was tense and needed to be handled with a certain degree of delicateness. There was more at stake here than her personal safety, after all.

So Amora stood silently and watched as the Red Skull delighted in turning things against Steven. She watched as the Winter Soldier suddenly snapped taut, cold calculation filling his eyes. When the Winter Soldier landed the first blow against Steven, Amora did not react. She did not react as the fight intensified. But when the blade glinted before plunging into Steven’s ribs, Amora could not contain the small hitch in her breath.

She held her breath when Steven did not fall instantly. He seemed to get some sort of second wind, which was not the result she had anticipated. Once again she found herself holding her breath as she watched the two soldiers struggle against each other. Somehow Steven managed to get the upper hand despite his rapidly deteriorating condition. When their angle changed slightly she saw that the knife was still embedded in the Captain’s body, blood spreading darkly around it. The Soldier lashed out, twisting the knife in Steven’s gut eliciting a ragged sound from the Captain. The noise seemed to please the Soldier who proceeded to yank the knife out. But to his credit, Steven didn’t let go.

She watched as Steven stumbled. She watched as the fight went out of him; it was as if someone had flicked a switch to turn him off. She watched as he fell to his knees, looking at his killer with only love. Her heart broke as the Winter Soldier’s eyes cleared in time for him to see what he had done.

* * *

 

_Winter Soldier_

There was no pain to signal the change, but suddenly Bucky was awake. He was awake, and he found himself standing on two feet on a rooftop. The scene made no sense, and Bucky felt a wave of disorientation knock him to the side. As he staggered to the right, he looked down to see Steve looking at him with his eyes full of love. The sight was enough to ground Bucky; as long as Steve was with him, there was nothing else that mattered. His heartbeat slowed

Bucky’s eyes finally caught on the sickly pallor of Steve’s skin, the excess of sweat on his face, and the trickle of dark liquid running down his chin. Horror froze Bucky’s feet in place as it all came rushing back to him in a dizzying onslaught of nightmarish visions. He clutched at his head, crying out, desperate for it to stop, desperate for it to not be real. But when he opened his eyes, Steve was falling to his knees.

"Oh God,” he was down on his own knees in a second, cradling Steve in his arms. His eyes automatically flitted to the blood. There was too much blood. This couldn’t be happening.

"No, please no. _Stevie_!” he choked on his own thick saliva as he looked into Steve’s glassy eyes. Shakily, Steve reached one hand up to rest on Bucky’s. ”Not your fault, Buck,” he took a shuddering breath, more blood spilling from his mouth and marring his perfect skin. ”Never your fault, Buck. Mine. So... sorry,” Steve’s eyelids were drooping dangerously.

" _Goddammit, Steve_! No! You don’t get to do this to me!” he could hear the hysteria creeping into his voice as he struggled against his own tears.

Steve managed to pull his eyelids back up slowly. He smiled at Bucky, and he had never looked more blissful. He looked so peaceful. It broke every piece of Bucky’s soul to watch.

"I love you, Steve. I love you so much,” Bucky whispered, sobs pushing the words.

"Love ya, Buck,” Steve slurred.

Bucky watched Steve’s chest hitch one more time. He kept watching even as the seconds stretched into a minute. Steve’s chest didn’t rise again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I finished writing this last night. The end will be up soon!


	28. Divided

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last real chapter... There will be a short epilogue to follow, and that will conclude the first story in The Renegades! Once again, thank you so much for reading!

**LOCATION: SHIELD MAXIMUM SECURITY PENITENTIARY**

_Winter Soldier_

There was nothing in his mind. Everything was blank. He had never felt so empty before. He had never felt so suddenly and completely alone. This was never supposed to happen. Things weren’t meant to end this way! It couldn’t be! _Anything_ , he would do anything, _give_ anything to fix this.

A sudden violent wave of rage washed through him. He rose carefully to his feet, turning to face the cause of all this. Red Skull stood several feet away. When he met Bucky’s eyes a satisfied smirk slowly stretched his disgusting face. It was enough to stop Bucky in his tracks. Enough to make him feel small, to make his breath catch painfully in his chest. He so desperately wanted to be strong now, strong for Steve.

But he was broken; he was useless. Laughter came from Red Skull’s direction, an ugly and spiteful sound. And just like that the fight flew out of him, and he was empty again. He stumbled forward slightly before tripping over his own feet and falling hard to his knees beside Steve.

There was movement around him, but he didn’t- _couldn’t_ \- pay attention. None of it mattered. All he saw when he closed his eyes was Steve, _his Steve_ , with blood dripping out of his mouth. Blood that _Bucky_ had drawn. It tore at him every time it passed through his head. He didn’t know how his heart could be shredded anew each time, but that was what he felt.

It wasn’t any better with his eyes open. All he could see then were tears. He had never _hurt_ this much before. He’d never known it was possible, that he had this much capacity for pain. The feeling was overwhelming, not purely physical, but all-consuming. He wanted to rip his skin off, to step out of this wretched body. There was nothing for him anymore, there was nothing at all.

Every beat of his shattered heart was another cry of Steve’s name. Each breath was another reminder of the stillness of Steve’s chest. His hands cradling Steve’s head were the worst. They were the hands of a monster. He was irredeemable now.

Beautiful, perfect, selfless Steve. Steve who had always been there. Steve who had shown Bucky how to be strong, how to be courageous, and how to make noble sacrifices. Steve who had grudgingly let Bucky tend to his myriad black eyes and bruised ribs over the years. Steve who had always been a fighter, even when the odds were stacked completely against him. Steve who had opened Bucky’s eyes to what it meant to have a soulmate. Steve, the one who had shown him what love really meant.

He remembered Steve’s easy smile, the glimmer in his eyes that made him such a punk. The childlike laugh that had deepened to something rich and wonderful over the years. He remembered fights, tears, apologies, and promises. But most of all he remembered the day that Steve first said that he loved Bucky. Bucky remembered how scared Steve had looked, the tears that had pooled in his big blue eyes. And when he’d finally understood what they meant, he remembered his and Steve’s first kiss. It was the first kiss that had ever really meant anything to him. It was the start of something new and beautiful. But it was also the broken promise of things that wouldn’t last, of happiness they would never have.

" _No! nonononononononono_!” he hit his head against the concrete, causing white sparks behind his eyes. The sparks briefly obscured the image of Steve’s dying face. That didn’t make it any better. He knew that nothing ever would. Steve was his other half, Steve was his heart and soul. Without Steve, he was just a dead man walking.

* * *

 

_Enchantress_

She was still reeling as Bucky, she could not think of this broken creature as the Winter Soldier, dropped to the ground with an anguished howl. She could feel his sobs deep within her own bones. They took her back, until she was standing, just barely hidden. She was frozen as she watched him fall, black hair flying around him wildly. She could feel the echo of her own wrecked cries in the sounds that the human made now.

She was pulled from the flashback to see Red Skull’s minions surrounding Bucky. She watched, one foot in the present and the other still in the past, as Bucky was knocked around. He didn’t put up much of a fight and took the knockout blow without a flinch. Anger surged through her and she lunged forward. But the hand of one of the black eyed beasts held her tightly, draining her with its contact. Red Skull watched this exchange with the sick imitation of a smile on his face. He walked forward, towards where Amora was beginning to sag against the drain on her energy.

"My, my, you are lovely. I can see why the Trickster was so enamored,” Red Skull laughed.

Amora couldn’t help the growl that rumbled from her throat.

"So spirited!” His eyes turned flat and hard, "That will not do.” He made a gesture to the demons surrounding Amora before turning away in dismissal.

"Where is he?” she screamed, " _What have you done to him_?” her voice came out sounding feral.

"The Trickster had debts to pay, my darling. He is with our savior now,” Red Skull gave her one final twisted grin before walking away.

Amora fought to stay upright and awake, but the vile beasts seemed to be sucking the life right out of her. Her magic remained simmering pathetically deep within, just beyond reach. She felt a single angry tear burning a trail down her cheek.

All she could hear was Red Skull’s last words circling through her mind. She could not let herself draw the conclusion that she logically found in those words. Loki had been lost to her too many times in this life as it was. Too much time between them had been spent playing a childish game of hot and cold. They had danced around their true feelings for far too long. It was time for that toxic cycle to cease; it was time to grow up.

Even as she slipped into oblivion, her mind held on to those thoughts. This time she would be stronger. She would not wait around for her prince to save her again. No matter what it took, this time she would save him.


	29. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quick little epilogue to wrap up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! I can't believe this story is finally done. I have really enjoyed writing this (my first completed chapter fic!) and I want to thank you readers one last time, so thanks!:)  
>  I really appreciate the comments and kudos (great motivators!), and I hope you'll all come back for the second helping of this story!  
>  Until next time...

 

**LOCATION: UNAVAILABLE  
**

_Trickster_

When he cracked his eyes open the first time, he only had enough time to register that it was dark before he slipped under again.

The second time that his eyes blinked awake, it was still dark. In fact, he could see nothing aside from darkness. It didn’t bother him, at least not immediately. Fatigue beckoned to him again, and he was more than happy to follow.

The next time he woke, he felt the pain all over his body. Everything hurt, from his toes to his scalp. He struggled against the fog in his head, trying to recall what had happened and where he was. His entire body froze, every function seeming to come to an abrupt halt as realization hit him.

" _No_ ,” the word was carried out of him on a rush of air. 

_***** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may post some of my deleted scenes from this fic (I have like 100 pages of them lol). Let me know if you're interested in seeing some of those! There is one in particular, Steve and Bucky's first kiss, that I am partial to:)


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